


Even Doves Have Pride

by LarasLandlockedBlues



Series: Lightning Struck [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Arranged Marriage, Bodyguard Romance, Drinking to Cope, Evelyn is a wreck, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Getting to Know Each Other, Heavy Drinking, I Don't Even Know, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Cullen Rutherford, Suicide Attempt, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-18 02:21:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 36,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13090380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LarasLandlockedBlues/pseuds/LarasLandlockedBlues
Summary: An arranged betrothal leads to a rebellious, wild Evelyn, and her father enlists a certain former Templar turned bodyguard to keep her in line until the big day.Modern AU with eventual smut and romance featuring Cullen/Mage Trevelyan. Features little to do with Dragon Age or Inquisition.





	1. Day One

**Author's Note:**

> In this order I would like to thank Prince, posting a random blurb for this piece on Tumblr and having people ask me to write it, alcohol, overpriced wifi on a plane, and recovering from a killer Irish hangover for the making of this piece of fiction.

He had been prepared from what the agency had said for the mansion to be gargantuan, but pulling up in the drive he took a moment to look it over. They had described it as a manor, but he was looking at a castle. He shook his head slightly as he took in the sight of its old stonework, its large towers, its many wings, and its truly imposing exterior. 

_Maker’s breath, what was he getting himself into?_

Cullen turned the engine off and finally got out of the car with a sigh. He straightened his tie and took a deep breath before he headed toward the massive front doors. They were adorned with large lion’s head knockers, and he shook his head again as he gripped one and knocked with it, a loud reverberating bang accompanying each knock.

He waited only a few moments before one of the large doors was opened, and he was greeted by a stiff looking butler with graying hair.

“Yes?” the man asked.

“I’m here to see Lord Trevelyan, I was sent by the agency,” he introduced himself.

The butler nodded knowingly and stepped back to let Cullen enter. He walked through the door and looked around the large foyer, taking in its vaulted ceilings and massive artwork that lined the walls. Everything about it screamed riches, titles, and extravagance.

“This way, please,” the butler gestured, and Cullen followed the man down a spectacular hallway to a luxurious dark wood-adorned study.

A man with salt-and-pepper hair was sitting at the desk, his spectacles resting on the tip of his nose as he read over a piece of paper before him. The butler cleared his throat and the man looked up with a sigh. He looked at Cullen for a moment and then understanding seemed to show on his face.

“Ah, I take it you were sent by the agency?” he asked, his voice deep and almost weary sounding. He stood and held a hand out, and Cullen took it as they made introductions.

“Yes, I was,” Cullen answered. “Cullen Rutherford, my lord.”

“A pleasure. Please, take a seat. And thank you, Oliver.”

The butler bowed and left the room as Cullen took one of the seats across the desk from the lord of the manor.

“I take it your drive was all right?” Lord Trevelyan asked.

“Yes, it was fine,” Cullen agreed. “I found the place easily enough.”

“Good, good,” the other man nodded absently for a moment. “If we can get down to business – what did the agency tell you about your role here?”

“They said you needed someone to act as a – a guard?” he asked tentatively. He worried at that being the first question out of the other man. That was why he would have been hired, considering his job was personal security.

“Yes, in several ways,” the lord sighed. “My daughter is newly engaged to be married. It is an arranged match, and she is – let’s say – obstinate. I need someone looking after her right now.”

“Oh?” Cullen asked, unable to resist his skepticism. Was he really going to be paid to  _babysit_ ?

“Well, you see she’s – she hasn’t taken well to the arrangement, and she’s a bit – wild,” Lord Trevelyan said haltingly.

“I’m sorry, but – what do you expect me to do about that?” Cullen asked. He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of babysitting. He was a former Templar, wasn’t he? Didn’t he deserve more of a challenge, more of an assignment than babysitting a nobleman’s daughter?

“I suppose – well, a few things,” the other man sighed. “She’s a mage, for one. We can’t rule out the possibility that she will resort to her magic to escape her fate. But also she – well, I need her to stay, ah –  _out of trouble._ She can't embarrass or compromise herself. ”

Cullen raised an eyebrow at the man, understanding what he meant. “And you think that will be my job, to make sure she does?”

“We’ll pay you double,” the lord replied swiftly. “I’m willing to double what the agency will pay you, under the table.”

He was shocked, and his face must have shown it because the other man laughed lightly.

“I know, I feel like I’m putting a reward or bounty on her behavior,” he sighed. “But the parents of her betrothed are very Andrastian and traditional, you see…They expect that there won’t be any issues.”

“And so you need someone to watch over her?"

“We’ve kept a close watch on her, but she’s – well, she’s an adult now and we can only do so much,” the other man sighed. “It was like once she turned twenty-one all hell broke loose.”

Cullen couldn’t help but chuckle, but he was still wary of taking a job so ridiculous. “So what would I do?”

“Follow her, everywhere you can. She goes out most nights, she leaves in the afternoon most days. You will drive her, you will escort her wherever she goes. There have been some minor threats, see,” the lord sighed. “And those give us a good cover for why we really want you with her.”

“Which is to make sure she – uh, doesn't embarrass anyone?” Cullen raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“Yes, essentially,” the other man shook his head and sighed. “She needs to refrain from embarrassing anyone involved with her behavior, which lately has seemed increasingly likely to occur. We need her to uphold her part of this arrangement.”

Cullen sighed and shook his head, looking to the side. Guarding a young woman who seemed to be described as a “wild child” was not his idea of a fulfilling job. But the idea of the extra money did appeal to him…

He could set some aside for his pet project, for the clinic he hoped to open some day. Or set some aside for Branson’s son, for college, since he was unlikely to ever have his own children.

“Has she used magic in the past to escape her obligations?” Cullen asked after a long period of silence.

“Not that we’re aware of – although it seems that her last few guards were somehow bamboozled, like they were mystified, and unable to keep her out of trouble,” Lord Trevelyan heaved a deep sigh. It was clear that his daughter was causing him no small amount of trouble. “We requested a Templar just to be safe.”

Cullen chafed a little, wondering if he needed to explain that he was a former Templar. He could still be of some use against a mage, but not as much as he once would have been. “Might I at least meet her?” he sighed.

“Yes, of course,” the lord agreed, and he stood from his desk. “If you’ll follow me.”

Cullen stood and preceded the other man out of the door, standing back and letting him lead the way once they were in the hallway. He followed two paces behind the other man, still looking around the extravagance of the halls.

“Evie, dear?” her father called up the stairs. There was no response, and the lord sighed. “Oliver, could you please get Evelyn?”

The butler nodded and began to make his way upstairs, but before he was halfway up footsteps sounded, a soft slapping of bare feet on the hard wood of the stairs.

He wasn’t quite sure what he had expected, but he didn’t think it was this.

She was short and incredibly slim, her skin so pale she almost glowed. It was in stark contrast to her long hair, which was midnight and shining softly blue in the light. Her gracefully angular face was free of makeup, and he found that surprising. For being described as a wild child, he’d expected her to be more on the lines of the tabloid princesses, incredibly done up. She was wearing a long green dress that was tied as a wrap, and as she moved almost all of her legs were exposed with each step she took. It was low cut as well, so that even though it was a full length dress, she almost looked like she was wearing hardly anything at all.

She was carrying a pair of heels in her hand, as well as a small purse. She raised her gaze as she made her way down the stairs, looking over the three men staring at her. Her eyes were unusual, and as she got closer he saw that they were almost white, and translucently, hardly grey and aqua in the light. A storm mage, he thought, recognizing the signs of one with such raw power inside of them. He wondered if she had been sent to the Circle or tutored privately, but then he remembered the size of the house he was standing in. Private tutors, had to be.

“Hello, papa,” she sighed, as if resigned, and she looked over Cullen critically. She finally reached where they stood and did a full up and down of him, her eyes finally settling on his. She narrowed her eyes slightly, and even though she was a foot shorter than him she managed to look intimidating with the piercing glare she was giving him.

“Evie, dearest, were you headed out?” Lord Trevelyan asked.

“Yes, I was,” she answered, but she didn’t elaborate. She was still regarding Cullen suspiciously.

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t go anywhere until we found someone to keep you safe,” her father lightly scolded her. Cullen noticed his voice seemed to soften, though, and he realized part of the problem had to be her father’s unwillingness to stand up to her.

She finally turned her gaze to her father and raised an eyebrow. “Is that not what he’s doing here?” she gestured with a finger to Cullen.

“Well, yes, that is – if he takes the job,” the other man turned to look at Cullen, who considered for a moment.

He felt like he was getting himself in over his head, but he thought again about the money, about how he could put it to use.

“Yes, I’ll take the job.”

 

 

 

Cullen had been handed keys without a word beyond the destination, and headed to the garage, following her swaying hips as she walked briskly ahead of him. He tore his eyes away from the sight, though he wondered if she was walking so suggestively on purpose to see what he would do. It became easier not to look when they entered the large garage and he saw the multitude of expensive cars that were there.

She led him to a nice black limousine and then stood by the back door, looking at him expectantly. He shook himself, clearing his distraction at the cars, and hurried forward to open the door for her. She got in without saying a word.

She seemed irritated. She had accepted his role easily enough, but he could tell she was only doing so grudgingly.

He walked around the car and got into the driver’s seat, and he adjusted his mirrors and put his seat belt on. He’d driven nice cars before for his other jobs, but every time he did he felt a certain trepidation that also thrilled him. It was perhaps one of his favorite perks of his job.

“Can you put up the partition?” he heard her soft voice say from behind him.

“Um, certainly – my lady, give me one…moment,” he tried to sound more confident but he was trying to figure out which button would do it.

“It’s above you, to the right,” she sighed.

He followed her instructions and began to raise the divider. He could still barely see through it, though it was tinted. He checked occasionally as he began to pull out of the large garage to see what she was doing, under the ruse that he was looking in the rearview mirror.

She was looking out the window, and she finally slid her strappy heels on. She looked sad, and irritated, and he noticed a tense energy in all of her movements. She cast the occasional furtive glance toward the front of the car, and finally after a few moments of anxious fidgeting she dug in her purse and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

He watched with some mild surprise as she lit one and rolled the window down, blowing the smoke out the window. She smoked too eagerly, taking deep drags, and soon the cigarette had burned all the way down. She put it out in an ash tray beside the seat and she immediately lit another.

He frowned but knew it wasn’t his place. He was only there to keep her safe and out of trouble, not monitor that kind of behavior.

They finally reached their destination, a fancy restaurant in the middle of downtown Ostwick, and he hurried to get out of the car to open her door for her.

“Thank you, I’ll be a few hours,” she said and she turned to walk into the restaurant.

“No, my lady, I’m coming with you,” he said.

She turned and stared at him, her eyebrows raised. She took off her large sunglasses and looked him over. “No, that’s not necessary,” she told him.

“Yes, it is,” he closed the car door and made sure it was locked. “I’m supposed to stay with you. It’s my job.”

“You don’t have to come in to do that, you can stay out here,” she replied, and she gave a small shrug. He could tell, she was trying to see how seriously he took his orders from her father.

“No, I’m going in with you,” he said more firmly. “Don’t worry, I won’t embarrass you.”

She pursed her lips slightly and he could tell she was annoyed again as he gave her a slight, challenging smirk. She seemed to hesitate, trying to make up her mind about something, and then finally she just gritted out, “Fine.”

She turned and walked briskly into the restaurant, leaving him trailing behind her. She was led by the hostess to the patio, and he followed her a few paces behind. He took a small table not far from her and ordered a coffee while he watched her greet the friend she was meeting.

“Dear, that dress is stunning,” the man told her as they embraced.

She giggled and reached up and twisted the corner of the man’s mustache playfully. “Did you try that new moustache wax I got for you?”

“I did,” the man said, and Cullen frowned a bit at the familiar way the man was stroking her bare back. They finally parted and took their seats across from each other, and he saw the man look his way.

“Who’s your new friend?” he asked, and she bristled and glared over her shoulder at Cullen.

He gave her a crooked grin, and she huffed and turned away.

“He’s nobody. He’ll be gone soon anyway,” she said, loudly enough to be sure her words carried back to where Cullen sat.

“So your father is still trying to keep an eye on you?” the man asked.

“Yes, but you know how well the others have done,” she giggled.

Their conversation was interrupted by their waiter, and she didn’t even look at the menu before she ordered.

“A martini, my dear?” her companion drawled as the waiter walked away from them. “It’s only ten in the morning.”

“You’re right, Dori, if I’d ordered a bloody Mary like you, it would be more acceptable,” she quipped.

“Fair point,” her friend conceded.

Cullen sat sipping his coffee and watching as she and her friend talked, and he noticed that neither of them bothered lowering their voices. They didn’t seem to care if Cullen could hear what they were talking about, which was reassuring to him. Nothing that was discussed was important; it was just playful banter and catching up on gossip.

“How’s Bull?” she asked after ordering her second martini.

“Oh, busy as usual,” he answered. “He’s down in Ferelden at the moment but he should be home soon.”

“What a shame, I was hoping he could come out with us tonight,” she sighed. 

“It’s not like we’ll never go out again,” he laughed. “Speaking of never, though – have they managed to set a date yet?”

She groaned and drained the rest of her second martini in one gulp. “My ruse about wanting a summer wedding worked, but almost too well because now they’re actually getting close to choosing a date.”

“Hmm,” her companion tapped his chin as he thought. “Change your mind and decide that fall is the perfect time? You just  _have_ to see the changing leaves in the photos?”

“No, that could make them choose a date sooner rather than  _next_ autumn,” she sighed. She tapped her fingers impatiently on the table.

“Might I ask –  _why_ are you still not just running off?”

“As much as I don’t want to marry that bastard, I don’t want to completely destroy my family,” she murmured. “They need this alliance, and they need their only child to not get herself disinherited. If Bron was still alive it would be different.”

“I suppose,” her friend agreed, although he sounded like he did so grudgingly. “There’s got to be something we can do, though, dear.”

“I’m working on it,” she mused, but she didn’t say anything more. She almost seemed to turn her head as if checking for Cullen’s presence behind her. “In the meantime, I’m going to keep fussing with them over wedding details. I keep pulling the ‘you’re making me do this so I want it to be perfect’ card.  _Surprisingly_ effective.”

Her companion laughed deeply, and she giggled.

Cullen hadn’t heard her laugh yet, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise. For how sullen and annoyed she seemed, the trickle of laughter sounded carefree and pure. It was as if a happier, more easygoing woman was beneath her cold, gloomy exterior.

He counted her martinis over the course of her brunch – it was four.

She paid for their meal, buying for her friend despite his protestations. When Cullen asked for his bill for his coffees and pastry that he’d had, he was told it had already been taken care of. He frowned and looked over at where she was signing her bill. He hadn’t expected that from her.

He was surprised too when she stood that she didn’t stumble or stagger at all. She walked evenly past him, not bothering to look at him as she and her friend made their way out of the restaurant. Cullen trailed behind them, and stood nearby when they stopped outside on the sidewalk.

She pulled out her pack of cigarettes and lit one, and her friend laughed. “Dear, don’t you know that smoking is bad for you?” he quipped, and he took the cigarette from her. He immediately put it in his mouth and took a drag instead.

She laughed again.

Cullen was beginning to love the sound of her laughter, and he had to shake himself mentally to refocus.

“Where are you off to next, Dorian?” she asked as she took the cigarette back from her friend.

“Oh, things to do before tonight,” he sighed. “But I’ll see you then. Remember – seven o’clock, all right? No dramatic late entrances, at least not tonight.”

She giggled. “I promise.”

She leaned up and gave her friend a quick kiss full on the lips, and he squeezed her waist and walked off. She finally turned to face Cullen, taking a drag from her cigarette as she looked at him. She seemed like she was waiting to see if he had any response to her kissing her friend.

“Where to next, my lady?” he asked casually.

She seemed to think for a moment, absently chewing her lip as she did. “I think I have some shopping to do,” she said, and she gave him a sly grin.

He tried not to groan. Shopping sounded like a terrible activity for the day, but he merely motioned for her to lead the way. He remembered when he was guarding important people in Kirkwall; now he was busy guarding a nobleman’s daughter on a booze-fueled shopping trip.

He sighed.

She almost seemed like she was testing him. She dragged him through store after store, making him hold her purse and occasionally a pile of clothes that she wanted to try on. She made him sit and wait while she tried on outfit after outfit, only to buy nothing. She asked his opinion and then criticized it immediately, until he wondered why she bothered asking.

But the whole time, the corners of her mouth were twitching upward as if she was trying to fight a smirk. She was trying to scare him off, it seemed. He wondered if her other guards had been so easily scared off.

Instead, he redoubled his efforts to be professional, doing everything she asked him to and addressing her as “my lady” every chance he got. It seemed to irritate her even more until she finally snatched her purse from him and hurried out of the last store they’d been in. He rushed after her, his long strides easily matching her quick pace as she hurried back to their car and lit a cigarette.

“I need to go home so I can get ready for tonight,” she said, and her tone sounded snappish like she was angry.

“As you wish, my lady,” he said, and had to fight the grin he wanted to give her as she glared at him.

He wouldn’t scare off that easily.

 

 

 

If the dress she had worn during the day had seemed revealing to him, it was nothing compared to the dress she put on for that evening. It was so short it hardly covered her rear, and he cleared his throat when he saw the way the loose fabric hanging down her front swayed and nearly revealed her chest with each movement.

She hurried through the foyer toward the garage, and it seemed she was trying to make it out of the house without being seen. Cullen stood up quickly from where he had been reading the newspaper, trying to keep up with her.

“Evie, dear, where are you going?” he heard Lord Trevelyan call from behind them.

“Out, Papa,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Cullen followed as quickly behind her as he could, jingling the keys in his hand as he watched her small, quick steps ahead of him. He tried to keep his gaze on her feet, not letting himself look at the smooth skin of her back that was revealed by the dress, or her long slender legs. She was certainly more beautiful than he had been prepared for, considering she was being married off in an arranged match.

He realized he had almost assumed it was because that was the only way they could find a match for her. He knew now how foolish that was; surely this was just how noble families made these decisions, no matter the attractiveness or intelligence of the child. And she seemed to have a plethora of both of those qualities.

He held the door open for her and again she got in without saying anything to him. He got in as well and pulled out of the garage, still glancing in the rear view mirror to watch her. She was again full of tense energy, it seemed, but now she spent her time primping in the small mirror she had in her purse. She put on lipstick, she fluffed and smoothed her full black hair, and she double checked the lines of her eyeliner. She seemed incredibly intent on how she looked, and he almost wondered at her motivation.

Her friend had told her no “late dramatic entrances” this time, but he was curious what else she maybe had planned. She had remarked that she had something she was working on to try to get out of her match. He knew he needed to keep a close eye on her that evening.

Cullen held the door open for her when they reached the club she was meeting her friends at, and she brushed by him without saying anything. She seemed to have resigned herself to his presence, but after the way he hadn’t given into her needling during their shopping trip, she hadn’t said one word to him.

He followed her into the club to the VIP section where her friends were waiting, and he took up his place beside their table to watch the whole night. He sipped water and watched as she greeted her friends, as she laughed and told jokes, as she downed drink after drink. Her friends were busy matching her drink for drink, and soon their booth was a rowdy disaster. It seemed they were celebrating someone’s birthday, but the noise they were making made it hard for him to even tell whose birthday.

Whenever she got up to go to the bathroom, he trailed her, standing in the hall to keep an eye on her. Honestly in the club he was less worried about what she was up to and was instead making sure nothing happened to her. He didn’t like the look of half of the patrons in the place, and he stayed as close to her as he could. When that meant that he was able to clear the crowd for her to make it back to their table, she actually turned and smiled at him.

“Ooo, it’s handy having someone as tall as you,” she teased, sounding completely different from how she had all day when she addressed him. “Maybe having you around won’t be a  _complete_ drag.”

“Happy to help, my lady,” he told her.

She frowned suddenly and spun away from him, passing by the velvet rope into the VIP section without looking back at him. He shrugged and took up his former spot to watch her, and he noticed she seemed to renew her efforts to drink once back at the table.

He sighed, and wondered whose job it would be to clean the car if she got sick on the way home.

After several hours her companions all made their way to the dance floor, and he paced slightly along the wall to keep an eye on her as she danced. He soon found himself having to look elsewhere, keeping an eye on her out of his peripherals because the sight of her dancing in that dress was too tantalizing.

He definitely should not be thinking about how her hips looked while she was dancing like that. He cleared his throat and tugged lightly at the collar of his shirt, feeling hot. What the hell was wrong with him?

He felt relieved when they all finally decided it was time to go, but he realized it was only because the club was closing.

“Where to next my lady?" he asked her. 

"It's Wednesday I bet everywhere else is closed," she groaned, slurring her words slightly.  "I'm starving though. Do you know anywhere we could grab some food?"

He smiled as he opened the car door for her. She didn't get in but instead leaned with it in between them as she waited for him to answer, starting up at him wide eyed and smiling. The great thing about suffering from insomnia and working nights was that he knew all the places open after the bars closed. 

"That depends, what are you in the mood for?"

"Fries," she answered. "Cheesy fries, or maybe gravy. That sounds amazing right now wouldn't you say?"

He thought for a moment before he nodded. "I know a place,  sure."

"Let's go there then," she agreed eagerly and finally slid into the car so he could close the door behind her. 

Cullen did so and then hurried to the driver's seat. 

"Put the partition down," she called, and he obeyed. She sat forward in the limo, her arms resting on the back of his seat. "What's your name?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Cullen, my lady. Did I forget to introduce myself? "

"Oh I'm sure you did I just didn't think it was important."

He chuckled at her airy tone. "Put your seat belt on please, my lady."

"No, I'm fine. I want to talk to you," she told him. 

"You need your -"

"Just drive please, Cullen," she told him.

He sighed and began to drive, being careful as he went since she was still sitting forward and resting her arms beside him on the seat. He made his way to the drive thru he knew was still open, and the whole time they drove she sang along to songs playing on the radio. She begged him to turn it up when "Little Red Corvette" came on. 

"I love this song," she cried, and she began dancing a little and singing along. "Don't you?"

"I suppose," he answered. "I'm more partial to classic rock."

"But Prince  _is_ classic!" she countered. "How can you not love this song?"

They pulled into the drive thru and he rolled down the window for her. It seemed to distract her from discussing their taste in music because suddenly all she was talking about was how hungry she was and how much she loved chase. 

There was something naïve and playful in her attitude as they ordered food, as she begrudged his lack of interest in loving Prince. She was giggling, she was playfully tapping his shoulder to the beat of the song. When he handed her her bag of food she almost gave a squeal of excitement as she opened it.

"Try these fries," she said as he began the trip home. She held out a fry for him and ignored his refusals, pressing the cheese sauce covered fry to his lips.

 "My lady please - I'm trying to drive," he protested, but she was still insistent. 

 "Just eat the damn fries," she giggled,  still smearing cheese on his lips. 

He finally opened his mouth and let her feed him, and she pushed the fry into his mouth. Her fingers made it into his mouth as well just as he closed his lips over the food, making him inadvertently suck her fingers. He pulled away sharply and she giggled and continued eating like she didn't notice or care. She fed him food as he drove, until he wondered if she was actually going to eat much herself. When he mentioned this she simply laughed.

By the time they arrived home, she had eaten or fed him all of the food in the bag, and was still in a positively delightful mood. He opened her door for her and she stumbled out of the car, grasping the lapels of his suit jacket as she did. He grabbed her quickly to make sure she didn't fall, and she suddenly snaked her arms around his neck. 

"Carry me," she whined. 

He hesitated for a moment and then stooped to lift her. A trickle of giggles poured from her lips and she tightened her grip on his neck. He did his best not to think about how short her dress was, or how it was gapping in front of her and showing off the white skin between her breasts. 

 "Why do you do this?" she asked suddenly as he carried her into the manor. "You seem like personal security is beneath you."

 "A friend helped me get the job after I left my last job," he answered, focusing on the stairs he was carrying her up instead of the view of her in his arms.

 "Why did you leave it?"

 "Personal reasons," he said stiffly.

 "Like what?" she muttered but she sounded sleepy, her voice coming slowly and he realized she was drifting off.

"They were personal," he repeated. 

 She huffed. "Why won't you tell me?" Her voice was still slow and quiet. 

"I'd just rather not speak of it."

She sighed but didn't say anything about it. He reached the top of the stairs and paused, realizing he didn't know which way her room was. "My lady, um, which -"

 "To the left at the end of the hall," she murmured and he let his feet carry him that way. "Do you have to call me 'my lady?'" she asked suddenly. 

 "Er, yes I do," he answered slowly. 

She gave a noncommittal groan. 

He reached her room and opened the door, turning sideways to make it in with her in his arms. Her room was massive, with its own lush sitting room and giant bathroom, all impeccably decorated. Things in her room were more modern than elsewhere in the castle, as if she tried to create her own little haven in this section of the house. He made his way through the sitting room to the bedroom where he saw a large four post bed with sheer white drapes hanging from it. He carried her to it and laid her on it, and she sighed softly. He pulled the sheets down before he started to undo her heels so he could take them off for her. She giggled a little at some unknown reason, and let him remove her shoes without comment. When he straightened his eyes caught sight of her gaping dress, and one creamy white breast was exposed to him.

For a moment he just stared, and then he remembered what he was doing and he cleared his throat and stood, backing away from the bed quickly. He turned absently on the spot for a moment before he went searching in the bathroom for a glass of water. He found what he was looking for and left it by her bedside. He considered lifting her to get her under the sheets but he knew without looking that her chest was still exposed. 

 "Are you leaving?" she murmured.

 "Ah yes, I am, unless you need anything else from me, my lady."

 She sighed but didn't say anything for a moment. "No," she finally sighed. "Good night, Cullen."

 "Good night, my lady. "

 He finally let himself out of her room and quietly made his way down the hall. Before he reached the stairs another door opened ahead of him. "Is Evelyn asleep? Alone?"

Cullen turned to face Lord Trevelyan, his brow slightly furrowed. "Yes, she is."

"Anything occur that I should know about?"

 Cullen shook his head. "No, my lord. She just went dancing with friends."

 The other man nodded absently. "Good, good...well, good night Cullen. See you in the morning."

Cullen nodded and bade the older man good night before he continued his way out of the manor. At least tonight it was late enough he wouldn't notice his restlessness. He had just enough time to get an hour or two of sleep before he headed back for his second day. He wondered if she would remember feeding him fries, or would be nicer and more open after how she had acted while she was drunk. Musing over her attitude and situation, he made his way home. 

 

The next morning, she was back to ignoring him as if nothing had changed after the previous night. In fact, she almost seemed colder to him than the day before.  

She must not have remembered.


	2. Day 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't originally going to do Evelyn perspectives but it feels empty without her. So here :-)

"Can you put the partition up?" she asked stiffly. 

She hated that she sounded like she was bossing around a servant every time she asked him to do something . But she didn't apologize, and she didn't think she ever would. She knew, she could sense he was a Templar from the moment they met, and she needed to be careful around him. Not only that, she needed someone less capable around when she finally started to really put her plan in action. And so far, this guard was proving to be far too competent. She had to get rid of him somehow. 

He put the partition up with a quick "of course my lady" accompanied by his usual small smirk, and she bristled and began to fidget. She hated that he called her 'my lady.'

Every time he said it, she was reminded of why he was there in the first place, of the degrading deal she'd had to make to try to save her family's line. She thought again of the look on her future husband's face when they'd been sitting around the table coming up with the terms. It was burned into her memory, and she chafed as she thought about it and immediately reached for her cigarettes. 

It had been two weeks under the constant supervision of this new golden, scarred  _babysitter_ and she was frustrated with how much he seemed able to resist her usual taunting and irritating tactics. Any time she tried to make his life difficult, he simply grinned and asked if he could do anything else for her, and called her 'my lady' again. 

She thought about those words again and took a deep, desperate drag from her cigarette. 

She had never wished she had a different family, she had never wished she had been born anyone other than who she was. Now though, she hated her family name and her title, whereas before she had never given either more than passing thought. If only Bron had lived to adulthood, she wouldn't have to give up her freedom and ability to choose her own path like she was now. 

She took another deep drag and sighed, wondering what she could try today while they were at lunch to scare him off. So far nothing had worked. She'd even tried ordering him embarrassingly girly drinks and sending them over to his table. Every time he simply smiled and brought the drink over to her, saying they must have mis-delivered it. Maybe she'd order him too many entrées today, and see how he responded to that. 

Maybe she'd finally stick him with the bill, instead of being too nice for her own good and picking up his tab. It wasn't because she thought he couldn't afford it, since she was beginning to wonder what her parents had finally offered to pay to get him to walk around so closely to her, watching her as intently as he did.

She'd been musing before he was hired that her parents were probably finally considering the chastity belt option after all of the trouble she'd given the other guards, since it was sure to be cheaper. Instead they seemed to have found the human equivalent of one. She would never have a chance to sneak away with anyone with him around. 

She knew too that he was reporting to her father every night. She always waited until after he'd left her room from helping her upstairs, and she'd sneak over to listen to their conversation. She found it odd how little he'd elaborate. 

"No my lord, she was dancing. No, nothing to report. Yes, she's home alone."

He never told him how much she drank. He never told him he had to carry her in. He never told him that they usually stopped for food while they talked about music on the way home. He never told him that she often shared her food with him because she worried that he didn't eat enough, although she didn't tell him that was why. He never told him how sweet and nice she was, drunk and forgetting her problems for just a few hours. Like she was the old Evelyn for a change - although he didn't know about the old Evelyn, he only knew this Evelyn, drunk and miserable. 

She hated this new Evelyn.

She hated the partying. She hated how much she was smoking, because she was always so nervous and upset. She hated the few drugs she'd tried when she was scaring off the other guards hired to watch her. She hated having to be so angry and self-protective, guarding herself against everyone, unsure of who she could trust. She hated having to be mean to her new guard, because he was actually really nice. 

She liked talking with him about music. She liked the sound of his voice and the little grin he got when he listened to her sing. She thought about the night they sang "Stairway to Heaven" together, while she fed them both pizza. If he hadn't been there because he was meant to keep her  _pure_ , it would have actually been a nice night. 

Nights like that made her wonder if her father had actually told him what he was really doing or just told him to keep a close eye on her. 

Her musings were interrupted as the car stopped, having reached their destination. She sighed and straightened her revealing sundress, waiting impatiently for him to open the door. She hated this role she was playing. 

She wondered what he really thought of her. 

He opened the door and she immediately wiped the sad smile off her face, instead masking it like marble in a neutral scowl. She brushed past him without a word, though in her head she thought 't _hank you so much, Cullen_ '

Instead she led the way to the restaurant, and finally saw what she had been waiting for. 

"Lady Trevelyan, Lady Trevelyan!" The photographer called to her as she walked to the restaurant's front door. She ducked her head as if she was trying to avoid him, but she brushed her hair behind her ear and made sure to show off the gaudy family heirloom she wore as an engagement ring. 

Cullen hurried forward and put his arm around her and held a hand up to shield her from the photographer's insistent _clicking_ of his shutter as he snapped picture after picture. Her tall guard hurried her past the other man and into the restaurant, and she looked up at him with a smirk. He almost looked surprised, like he hadn't expected that. 

She was still trying not to smile too broadly to herself. She had been working for months for what had just happened. 

She pulled herself away from Cullen and he tried to ask if she was all right, but she hurried away without waiting to hear him out, looking intently for -

"Dorian, did you see?" She asked in a rushed whisper as her best friend stood to greet her. She could tell by the eager look in his face though that he had. 

"Is that - was that enough?" He asked as they grabbed and kissed each other on the cheeks quickly before they parted. 

"It's a start. I'm glad you got a patio table again," she told him quietly. "Maybe he'll -"

But she cut off what she was saying as Cullen took his place at a table behind them. 

"So is Bull gone again?" She said quickly to cover what they'd been talking about. Dorian began answering casually, flippantly, as if they hadn't just changed the subject. While she listened to him talk about what his partner was up to, she pulled her phone out and casually tried to bring Dorian's attention to it. He nodded slightly as he told a joke about something, and set his own phone on the table. 

Continuing their lighthearted gossip, Evelyn focused on what she was texting Dorian, on the plan she was trying to get him to agree to. She quickly ordered another drink, finishing the one she'd already ordered. Her heart was racing despite how much she tried to calm it. She'd waited for this for months. 

Just as she got her second drink, she heard another yell of "Lady Trevelyan!"

Dorian gave her a broad grin and nodded discreetly. She hopped up as quickly as she could out of her chair and circled the table to where Dorian sat. She knew she only had a few moments before Cullen managed to get the paparazzo to leave, and she moved before he realized what was going on. 

In full view of the clicking camera, she threw herself into Dorian's lap with an exaggerated, drunken, shrieking giggle and she placed a kiss full on his lips. He laughed just as loudly and wrapped his arms around her, caressing every bit of unclothed skin as he could reach. They continued their loud, "drunken" PDA and the whole time Evelyn was aware of the clicking of the camera. 

She heard shouting, she could hear someone telling the paparazzo to clear out, and she and Dorian managed one last whispered "yes!" before she felt herself pulled out of Dorian's lap.

"Lady Trevelyan," she heard, and she noticed that Cullen sounded almost panicked. "Looks like I need to get you home."

"I've still got food coming," she protested. 

"Now," he insisted,  and he continued tugging her by her arm. 

She looked at Dorian and winked, mouthing "thank you," before she let Cullen lead her away.

He escorted her to the car and hurried her into it, and once he took his seat behind the wheel he took a moment before he sighed and turned to face her. "Did you plan that?"

"I was just having lunch with Dorian like I do all the time,  I don't know what you're talking about," she shrugged innocently. 

"Did you call that paparazzo?" His brows were furrowed and his tone was sharp. 

"No, of course not." It was actually the truth, because she needed to be blameless and above suspicion. 

He thought for a moment and then a shrewd look came upon his face. "But you've been trying to catch their attention."

"I don't know what you think I'd hope to gain by being followed around by cameras twenty-four-seven," she sighed. "It's bad enough having you around all the time. Don't you ever take rest days?"

He shrugged. "I like working. But you're avoiding my question."

"It wasn't a question, it was an accusation," she pouted. "And frankly it was hurtful."

He frowned and considered her for a moment. "I'm sorry, I suppose. But if those pictures get printed -"

"Worried about your job?" She raised an eyebrow at him as she mocked him. She wished worrying about a job was her biggest problem. 

"Aren't you worried about your fiancé?"

She looked out the window and smiled to herself.


	3. Day 16

So far nothing had happened. The pictures hadn't been printed anywhere, and he hadn’t been called into Lord Trevelyan's study to discuss anything. Evelyn had gone out to dinner the night before with a girlfriend, but nothing else had happened. She hadn't even had that much to drink. When he arrived at the manor for work, he felt nervous, wondering if maybe the pictures had finally been printed. But everything was calm. Evelyn was up in her room, so he took his seat in the living room, and began the daily crossword while Oliver the Butler brought him coffee.

When it reached lunch time, Cullen set the newspaper down and looked around, wondering where Evelyn was. He realized he hadn't actually seen her, and had only been told by Oliver that she was in her room. After the events of the day before, he began to worry that maybe she had snuck out. She always went out in the afternoon, as if she couldn't stand to stay home. He wondered at her sudden change in routine.

Cullen headed through the hall and quietly made his way up the grand staircase, listening intently as he did so. He was only a few steps down the hallway when he stopped in his tracks. 

He recognized the beginning chords of one of his favorite songs, and it took him a moment to realize that they were actually coming from a real guitar and not a stereo. A soft, beautiful voice began to sing the words, and he moved closer to her room as if entranced by the sound.

" _She's a good girl, she's crazy about Elvis. Loves horses, and her boyfriend too,_ " he heard. Her voice was angelic, and he saw that her door was slightly open at the end of the hall. He slowly edged it open further.

Evelyn was sitting on the plush window seat, her legs curled up and crossed under her, a beautiful acoustic guitar in her lap. She was wearing a loose, cable knit sweater that hung off her shoulders as well as leggings, her hair in a long, loose braid. He realized he'd never actually seen her wear anything so normal, and he suddenly thought she was more beautiful than ever. She was staring absently out the window as she strummed the strings of the guitar, singing to herself.

" _And I'm free. Free fallin'. Yeah I'm free. Free fallin_ ,'" she was singing, and he noticed a wistful melancholy in her voice. But somehow that only made the sound of her singing even more beautiful. He couldn't pull himself away from watching her, listening with rapt attention as she continued the next verse. He couldn't believe that of all the songs she was singing to herself that she knew how to play one of his favorites.

When she finished the chorus the next time her fingers accidentally slipped on the chords,and she paused for a moment to readjust. She seemed to forget where she was, and he couldn't resist chiming in. 

" _I wanna glide down, over Mulholland. I wanna write her, name in the sky_ ," he sang. 

She looked up, surprised, but after a moment she simply smiled and continued strumming the guitar, looking at him expectantly. She wanted him to continue, and with a slightly embarrassed chuckle he did. She watched him for a moment and then joined back in, a small smile playing on her face as they finished singing the song together. 

When they were finished she giggled softly. "You have a wonderful voice, Cullen."

"Thank you, my lady," he said. He noticed her frown a little but then she seemed to shake her head and she strummed absently at the guitar. He put his hands in his pockets and looked around her room. "Do you not have lunch plans today?"

She shook her head, another small smile on her face. "No, I just wanted to be alone."

"I'm sorry, I can leave if you'd like. I just hadn't seen you at all today, I wanted to make sure-"

"Make sure I wasn't causing any more trouble?" she asked, but she seemed like she was teasing, the corners of her lips tugged up slightly in a sly smile.

"I was going to say make sure you were all right," he said, feeling slightly guilty. 

"You can come in, you don't have to stand in the doorway," she told him, and she giggled at his awkwardness as she played a few notes of another familiar song.

"You can play 'Stairway to Heaven?'" he asked at he strolled into her large sitting room. 

"I've been teaching myself," she smiled and continued playing it. "Although I know all of this one."

She switched to a new song and he recognized "Going to California" by Led Zeppelin. 

"How long have you played?"

"Since I was a child. I can play the piano too," she interrupted her quiet singing to answer. "I tried the violin, but didn't take to it as well. I like singing while I play."

"Your voice is beautiful, I can see why," he told her, unable to resist commenting on it.

She smiled but didn't say anything, instead she resumed singing Led Zeppelin softly. He stood watching her, enjoying the soothing, heavenly sound of her voice as she sang, " _Someone told me there's a girl out there, with love in her eyes and flowers in her hair. Took my chances on a big jet plane, never let them tell you that they're all the same._ "

He was about to take a seat near her and join in when he heard a shout from downstairs and their peaceful moment was shattered. Evelyn stopped her strumming and looked toward the door, an odd look somewhere between apprehension and triumph in her eyes. Cullen frowned and was about to ask her what it was about, but he heard the deep voice of Lord Trevelyan yelling from down the hall before he could ask. 

"Evelyn! Where are you?" the shouts continued. The door to the sitting room was pushed wide moments later, and the lord of the house marched in holding a large, expensive tablet and looking furious.

"What in the name of Andraste were you thinking?" he demanded. He brandished the tablet before her, and Cullen saw it opened to an online news story, with a headline screaming speculation about who Lady Trevelyan's mystery man was. Beneath the headline was the picture of her in Dorian's lap, and from the angle it was taken it looked like a more passionate kiss than Cullen had seen it to be. He had noticed the way the two had been tightening their lips, as if they didn't really want to kiss each other at all.

Cullen's stomach lurched, unsure of what was going to happen. It had been his job to prevent anything like this, and he had failed. He looked at Evelyn and saw that she was simply staring at the headline and the picture, sitting motionless, her guitar still in her lap. The look in her eyes was indistinguishable, but he saw that her fingers were tight on her guitar. 

"Well?" Her father demanded again. 

"It was just a laugh," she finally said, and Cullen noticed the same feigned innocence in her tone as when he had confronted her about it. "I didn't know a paparazzo was nearby, we were just having a good time."

"Just having a good time?" Lord Trevelyan repeated, incredulous. “You're sitting in another man's lap while he grabs your - Evelyn, cameras or not this is not how you should ever act! You are  _engaged to be married._ "

"You don't need to remind me," she murmured. 

Lord Trevelyan finally seemed to notice Cullen and he turned to face him, holding out the tablet to him. "I see you escorted her into the restaurant but failed to stop  _this_ ."

Cullen looked at the tablet and sure enough saw a photo of him escorting Evelyn in, his hand on her waist and his other trying to block her from view. He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, my lord, everything happened so fast and I didn't see -"

"I suppose you did what you could," the other man interrupted and rubbed his eyes with the hand that wasn't holding the tablet. "Listen, Evie, I know you aren't thrilled by the match, but that doesn't mean you can behave this way."

Evelyn simply stared at her father, her face as still as marble. She seemed to be waiting intently for his next words.

"I'm going to have to explain this, I'm sure I can make them understand. Dorian is your oldest friend, surely they'll understand you were just having a laugh and that it didn't mean anything, camera there at the wrong time, a little too much to drink, that sort of thing. Nothing to be concerned about," her father sighed heavily and continued. He seemed frustrated beyond words. "In the meantime, you  _will stop_ this behavior. You will remember your duty to this family, and you will apologize to your future husband for your disrespect of him and his -"

"What?" Evelyn interjected,  and there was clear distress in her voice. Cullen frowned to hear it. 

"Yes, Evelyn. You disrespected him as well as yourself with your disgraceful behavior. Maybe we shouldn't have let you insist on no contact until the wedding. I'm certain if you two spent time together -"

Evelyn finally set her guitar aside and stood up, shaking her head. "No, please, that's not -"

Her father held up a hand and a sharp glare crossed his face, and his voice was loud and harsh when he spoke. "Yes, I think it is necessary. You two will begin to spend time together so that you can get acquainted. I've given in to you for too long. It is time for you  _to do as I say._ "

Cullen watched as she swallowed hard, her eyes almost seeming to fill with tears. She opened her mouth but seemed at a loss for words, and finally just turned away from her father. "I suppose I have no choice," she said, and her voice broke slightly as she did. Cullen frowned and felt his heart break slightly for her. 

Lord Trevelyan was staring at her, and he almost looked like his expression softened. But he shook himself and turned away, heading back to the door. "I guess it's time for me to go fix this. Don't do anything else rash, Evelyn. Maker knows you're already breaking your poor mother's heart."

Evelyn said nothing as her father left her room, instead holding her arms crossed over her chest as if hugging herself while she pressed her lips tightly together. Once they were finally alone she said, " Give me a moment to get my shoes and purse, and then we'll be ready to go."

Cullen frowned. "Where are we going, my lady?"

"Anywhere but here," came the answer, her voice barely more than a whisper. He wasn't sure he was supposed to have heard her. 

 

 

 

Anywhere but here ended up being a luxurious townhouse on the edge of downtown Ostwick. Cullen had spent the whole drive watching her through the tinted partition. Her face was free from expression, but she chain smoked cigarettes and it was clear to him that her hands were shaking as she did. When he opened her door she pushed past him but only seemed in a hurry, not like she was angry. 

She ran up the stairs to the front door and knocked insistently. He stood behind her as she waited, looking around to make sure no one,  like another paparazzo, was nearby. The door finally opened and Cullen turned to see a large, shirtless Qunari with impressive horns standing in the entrance. 

"Evie! Are you all right?" the man asked, and he reached out for Evelyn's shoulders and pulled her into a hug. Cullen frowned, not understanding the reaction but then he realized Evelyn's back was shaking. She was crying. 

"Come on, let's get you inside," the Qunari said, and he put an arm around her to guide her into the house. He looked at Cullen and seemed to consider for a moment before he gestured for him to follow. 

"Bull, who is it?" a familiar voice called down as they made their way up the stairs into the house. 

"It's Evie, kadahn," the Qunari answered. 

Dorian appeared in the doorway that connected the hallway they entered to the kitchen, a frown on his face. 

"Little dove, what is it?" Her friend asked as he took in the sight of Evelyn crying in their hallway.

"It - it didn't work," she gasped.

Cullen raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything. He'd suspected that she'd planned that, that she had been trying to cause a scandal. He believed that she didn't call the paparazzo herself, but he certainly doubted that she hadn't been trying to get their attention with her wild,  partying ways. 

Dorian sighed and then glanced at Cullen with a frown. "Come in here, Evie, dear, and we'll have a drink and talk. Tell your babysitter he can wait in the kitchen and help himself to whatever he likes."

"Oh what does it matter, he'd figured it out anyway," Evelyn muttered and she glanced back at Cullen. "Hadn't you?"

He shrugged. "I suspected," he admitted.

"Well then you may as well continue to shadow her as you're so prone to do," Dorian said, and he gestured for them all to follow him. 

They made their way down the hall he had come from and walked into a large, beautiful living room. The furnishings were impeccable, chic and modern, spotlessly kept. Dorian walked over to a bar that was in one corner of the room and began to mix cocktails. Evelyn made her way to the sofa and threw herself onto it, and the large Qunari took his spot beside her. Cullen hesitated and then took a seat in a chair away from the sofa. Dorian glanced up at him and chuckled.

"You may as well sit with us and have a drink, we'll be here a while and you already know what we'll be talking about," he told Cullen. 

Evelyn turned and stared at Cullen for a moment, but she didn't say anything before she turned back around. He stood again and moved to take an armchair facing the sofa. He felt out of place and like he was being drawn into a conspiracy. It made him nervous.

Dorian finished the cocktails and brought them over on a tray to the other three. He set them on the table, took his own, and sat in the other armchair facing the sofa. "So what happened? I'll admit, Bull got in late last night and we haven't had a chance to check the news or gossip sites."

"It backfired," Evelyn sighed as she took her cocktail from the tray. "If they decide this scandal wasn't serious, I'm going to have to start spending time with  _him._ "

She emphasized the last word with disdain, and Cullen's brows furrowed. Besides not being her choice, what could be so bad about her future husband? He watched as Dorian shook his head and sipped his cocktail. 

"Want me to just take care of him for you, Evie?" Bull offered with a threatening chuckle. 

She shook her head and stared at the drink in her hand. "I just need to keep making myself more trouble than I'm worth to his family."

Cullen shifted uncomfortably. "My lady, I'm not sure you should -"

"Not sure I should what?" she turned a glare on him that made him stop his protestations. "Not sure I should find my way out of a forced situation? You realize what my marrying him will mean?"

Cullen was faced with the stares of the other three, and he frowned but made no reply, unsure of what she was implying. 

She sat forward on the sofa and looked pointedly at Cullen. "Our families expect an heir. And my betrothed seems more than keen to provide them with one sooner rather than later."

Cullen shook his head slightly. "Surely he would not force the issue until you were -" 

He stopped when Dorian let out a hollow laugh. "Clearly you haven't met him yet. The poor fellow has been crazy about Evie for years, and essentially begged his family to make this offer."

"And so no, I don't trust that he would wait for me to be all right with our marriage. Especially because I know I'll  _never_ be," Evelyn said bitterly, and she took a deep drink as if trying to get a bad taste out of her mouth. 

Cullen hadn't thought about that, and he realized now how silly it was that he hadn't. Of course a union like this would be expected to bring about children. A sudden image of Evelyn crying on a bed with a strange man standing over her on her wedding night popped into his head, and he felt his stomach lurch as he thought about it. The idea was horrifying to him, and he suddenly sympathized with her plight. 

Another image of her lying on a bed quickly replaced that one, though. That of her writhing in pleasure and moaning a name beneath someone - specifically  _his_ . 

He cleared his throat and finally reached for the drink Dorian had made for him. He didn't know what had gotten into him. He took a sip before he trusted himself to speak. "Have you spoken to your father about this?"

Evelyn rolled her eyes and finished her drink. "That man can't think of anything but saving the Trevelyan line. He told me I was just nervous, that my mother eventually learned to love him. I told him I had no interest in Stockholm Syndrome."

Dorian and Bull chuckled but Cullen was still frowning. He felt conflicted. He had been hired to keep her out of trouble, but he wasn't quite sure he was willing to be party to a forced marriage now that he thought about it. But maybe her father was right, maybe if she spent time with her betrothed she wouldn't be opposed to the match. 

"My lady, I was hired to -"

"To keep me in line and make sure I don't take up with anyone else, so that I'm still -" Her voice cracked and she didn't finish the thought. Cullen's frown turned into a scowl, thinking he knew where the statement was leading. It left him bemused. 

"That's fine," she turned her glare back to him. "If you really think that's more important than freedom then continue doing your job. I'm not going to stop what I'm doing to get out of this, though."

Cullen stared at her, unsure of how to respond. When she put it that way, it didn't sound so unreasonable the way she was acting. But he'd been hired for a purpose. He couldn't disappoint her family, he couldn't give up his responsibilities. Maybe she'd spend time with her betrothed and change her mind. 

In the meantime, he'd try not to feel too badly about the money he was collecting and setting aside for the clinic he wanted to open.


	4. Day 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all saw the return of Grayson coming, right?
> 
> ;-)

She had managed to put it off for almost a month. She had made excuses, had filled her calendar, had started just being unavailable for her father to speak with her at all. Cullen said nothing about the way she started dragging him out first thing in the morning to do nothing but sit at a cafe all day when she wasn't meeting up with friends. Occasionally she caught him looking at her with a frown, but he never brought up what they had spoken of at Dorian's. Instead he sat with her in silence at the cafe table, until she finally got fed up with his piercing amber gaze and asked him questions about himself.

But she'd finally slipped up. Her insomnia had caught up with her and after drinking too much to try to fall asleep she slept in too late one morning. As she had raced down the stairs, motioning Cullen to follow her, her father had finally caught her. He had informed her that she had an arranged date planned with _him_.

And he had given Cullen strict orders to get her there.

She sat in front of her vanity, looking over herself. She wasn't wearing makeup, and the black dress she had chosen could only be described as modest. She didn't want to give _him_ any encouragement at all. She sighed deeply and finally stood, grabbing her purse and slipping into her heels before she left the room. Cullen was approaching down the hallway, and she noticed his eyes move up and down as he took in her appearance.

She noticed him doing that a lot. She noticed how his eyes lingered when she wore something revealing. She knew too that his gaze had lingered when her dress had fallen open the first time he had carried her to bed. She'd intentionally avoided fixing it to see what he did. She was beginning to wonder if he wanted her, and she wasn't sure at first how she felt about it.

 But she noticed the polite way he cleared his throat a little and looked away, the corner of his mouth twitching as he fought it tugging up in a grin.

Maker, he was almost cute when he smiled. He was an incredibly attractive man - she'd noticed it when they first met. But instead of looking like a stoic bodyguard like he normally did, his little grin made him look like a playful, carefree human being.

Her heart suddenly sped up and her stomach fluttered as she stopped in the hallway before him. The realization that she was attracted to him made her unable to speak for a moment. She was too busy wondering what he looked like under that suit.

She suddenly had an idea, one that was certainly not without a great deal of appeal to her.

"Are you ready, my lady? We should get going," he greeted her. He was standing in front of her with his hands in his pockets, and his eyes still flicked down occasionally. He was still checking her out.

He definitely wanted her.

"Yes, I suppose," she finally said, and she gave him her sweetest smile. For a moment he simply stared at her, taking in the smile with astonishment on his face.

But after a moment he cleared his throat and gestured with a hand for her to lead the way.

Once they were in the car, she didn't insist on the partition being raised. She didn't have a cigarette, though she was tempted. Maybe the smell of cigarettes would disgust _him_? She was too distracted by where her mind was wandering, though, to think of ways to sabotage the dinner. She kept glancing to the front, furtively observing her stoic guard. And a few times she was positive she caught him doing the same.

They arrived at the restaurant, and she tried to take steadying breaths as she waited for Cullen to open her door. He did so and offered a hand into the car to help her out. She took it even though it made her frown; he'd never done that before, and it came across incredibly gallant. She wondered why, and looked up at him while she straightened, and neither of them let go of the other's hand for a moment.

Cullen finally stepped back and released her, waiting for her to move so he could close the door. She wanted to say something, she wanted to ask him what he thought of her, if he possibly wanted her. Instead she managed a small smile and said, "Thank you, Cullen."

He almost looked surprised and then he nodded. "You're welcome, my lady."

It had stopped upsetting her so much that he called her my lady. She wasn't sure why; maybe it was the tone of his voice as he said it. He was never mocking, never sneering. It was respect and awe in his address instead. She was feeling baffled by all of this new information, and she had to take a breath to steady herself.

She turned and finally headed into the restaurant, trying to hold her head high.

She was strong, she could survive just one dinner with _him_.

* * *

 Cullen wasn't sure what to make of Evelyn's betrothed. He stood behind their booth, listening to their conversation, his brows furrowed.

The other man was shorter than Cullen, only barely taller than his fiancée considering the heels she was wearing. Cullen wondered if that had been intentional on her part; it seemed like the sort of thing she would do. He had mousy brown hair and eyes so dark they were almost black. His face was pinched, the whole effect making him look like a rat.

When they had arrived he had placed his hands on Evelyn's waist and tried to kiss her but she turned her face and stepped back and he got her cheek and ear instead. She brushed his hands away from her waist with an embarrassed giggle before quickly trying to take her seat.

 Now they were sitting across from each other, Evelyn leaning as far back as she could in her seat while her fiancé leaned forward eagerly.

"You look beautiful, Evie, though I thought maybe you'd wear a dress like I've been seeing in the pictures of you."

Cullen glanced at Evelyn to see her reaction and he almost thought she paled a little. 

"You made sure to insist on my _purity_ , I assumed modesty was what you wanted," Evelyn replied smoothly, the edge evident in her voice.

Her fiancé cleared his throat. "Uh, n-no, actually. My parents are just old fashioned -"

"You forget that I know you, Grayson. I know it wasn't your parents who insisted on that," Evelyn interrupted, and the piercing gaze she gave her betrothed even made Cullen's blood run cold.

For a moment there was silence, and then finally Grayson let out a chuckle. "All right, fine. I'm a jealous man, Evie, I didn't like the thought of someone else having what's mine."

"Only yours because your parents bought it for you," Evelyn sneered.

Cullen shifted uncomfortably where he stood. He remembered what she had said at Dorian's, he remembered the fear he had seen in her eyes when her father had insisted that she spend time with her betrothed. Now that he had just heard the other man's admission, he wasn't sure he blamed her. 

"Well, what's done is done," Grayson shrugged. "We may as well make the most of it. After all, we'll be together for the rest of our lives. Must we fight like this?"

Evelyn simply stared at him for a moment and then looked around for a waiter. She caught Cullen's eye and he frowned and held up a few fingers in a silent gesture to ask if she was okay. She grimaced and gave a small shrug, but the action was caught by Grayson and he turned around to see who she was shrugging at. The other man frowned as he took in her guard's appearance and Cullen raised an eyebrow at him. 

"Evie does your guard really have to stand right here? It's not like anything will happen while you're with me," Grayson insisted.

Evelyn smirked. "Actually he's under strict orders from my father to follow me everywhere. Even, or rather, especially when I'm with you."

Cullen grinned despite himself and she caught his eye and her smirk widened. He looked away, trying to keep himself from laughing. She finally seemed like she'd found a use for him, finally accepting his role as her constant shadow.

Her fiancé seemed to chafe at her words but didn't try to protest further. He tried to make awkward conversation with her, but she barely answered, refusing to elaborate at all. She asked him nothing about himself, and he almost seemed to be getting irritated.

"Am I keeping you from something?" He finally snapped.

Evelyn smirked and seemed like she couldn't resist. "Yes actually. You're keeping me from my life."

Cullen had to stifle a laugh. He had to admire her honesty.

"Is that - is that how you feel?" Grayson asked. "Are you so opposed to marrying me -"

"Yes," she answered evenly. "I thought I had made that clear. Several times."

An awkward silence fell over the table and Cullen chanced a peek. Evelyn looked pale but resolute, and her fiancé's shoulders slumped.

"Well I - I guess you'll get used to the idea," Grayson finally said. "And hopefully sooner rather than later. I'm going to have them move the date up. It's ridiculous having to wait this long -"

"What?" Evelyn cried, real despair evident in her voice.

"Yes," Grayson's voice was getting more confident as he msde his declarations. "This match is what's best for both of our families. Yours needs my money, don't forget that."

Evelyn had gone pale as if he had threatened her. Cullen almost worried she was going to faint. He didn't like the tone of the other man's voice, and when Evelyn looked up at him he gestured to the door. She eagerly took the hint and stood, grabbing her purse and hurrying toward the door. Cullen followed, and he heard footsteps behind him.

"Evie come back here," Grayson called from behind them. He pushed past Cullen and grabbed Evelyn by the arm, yanking her back.

Cullen reacted immediately. He reached out and grabbed the other man's wrist, gripping it as hard as he could as he pulled it off of Evelyn's arm. He spun Grayson to face him, stepping as he did so in order to put Evelyn behind him.

"You will not touch her," Cullen growled, and the other man almost seemed to cower. Cullen shoved him back as he released his wrist and he stumbled.

Grayson pushed his hair back out of his face and glared at Cullen, but then seemed to realize he had no course of action against the taller, stronger man.

"I'm - I'm sorry, you're right. I got carried away," he said.

Cullen glared at him but Evelyn stepped out from behind him. "Goodbye, Grayson. Thank you for dinner, it was - illuminating."

Cullen opened the door for her and saw her safely inside before he closed the door. With one last glare back at Grayson he got into the driver's seat and turned the engine on and began to drive before he bothered thinking to ask where they were going.

The partition was still down and after they had driven away Evelyn sat forward and leaned her arms on the seat behind him.

"I don't want to go home yet," she murmured. She was leaning close and he could feel her breath hot on his neck. It made him shiver slightly.

"Where would you like to go then, my lady?" He asked, and he tried to keep his tone even. Feeling her this close, with the adrenaline of pulling Grayson off of her, was making his mind reel and his heart race.

For a wild moment he considered pulling the car over and joining her in the backseat, not bothering to remove their clothes in the haste to take her -

Maker's breath, he needed to get himself under control. His imaginings of spreading her legs and thrusting himself into her as they both moaned, and she cried his name with pleasure had been getting worse and far more persistent. He shouldn't be thinking of her that way.

"Anywhere. A cafe. A bar. A park. Even a parking lot, I just - I don't want to go home," she sighed. She leaned her head down and rested her forehead on his shoulder.

He tried not to think about it.

"I - I know a place where it should be quiet, if you need to think," he told her.

"That would be wonderful," she mumbled into his seat.

He drove in silence, Evelyn's head still resting on his shoulder. He pulled into a park and turned off the car, then looked over his shoulder. Evelyn raised her head and her face was right next to him.

For a moment they simply stared at each other, never having been this close. He took in the lightning color of her eyes, shining almost clear in the moonlight. She fluttered her eyelashes at him, and then sighed.

"I forgot to say thank you," she murmured. "I appreciate you getting me out of there and pulling him off of me."

"It's my job," he answered quietly.

"You didn't have to get me out of there like you did. Indeed my father probably wanted you to make me stay. I - thank you, Cullen. Truly."

And she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek.


	5. Day 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: attempted suicide and mention of a previous attempt. Please seek out a friend or help if you ever feel like you need it.
> 
> xx,  
> L

Cullen hadn't even made it across the foyer when he heard his name being called. He turned and looked down the hallway.

"May I speak with you, please, Cullen?" Lord Trevelyan called from the doorway of his study.

Cullen nodded and walked down the hallway, frowning. He had several ideas of what the other man wanted to speak with him about.

"Please have a seat," Lord Trevelyan gestured as he took his own. Once they were both seated the other man stared at Cullen for a moment before he frowned. "Would you mind telling me what happened last night?"

"I escorted Evelyn to dinner with her fiancé," Cullen answered slowly. He was curious about the other man's tone.

"Yes that much I know," the lord sighed, sounding almost exasperated. "In fact I know that you also quickly escorted her out as soon as she got bored with the conversation -"

"No, my lord," Cullen interjected, shifting in his chair. "I escorted her out when her fiancé began to sound like he was threatening her."

"Is that what she told you?"

Cullen frowned. "I was standing behind their table, I heard him myself. Did Evelyn speak with you?"

"No, she hasn't spoken to me. I was contacted this morning by her fiancé's father," Lord Trevelyan sighed. "He requested that you be removed from my service for assaulting his son."

 "What?" Cullen asked, incredulous. "He grabbed Evelyn - roughly. I thought maybe he was going to hurt her, and I pulled him away from her. It's my job to protect her, and that's all I did."

"You say he grabbed her first?"

"Ask Evelyn, she'll tell you. Her arm is probably bruised from it."

Lord Trevelyan frowned as he regarded Cullen, and he made sure to keep his face neutral. He couldn't believe the nerve of her betrothed, trying to get him fired after he'd been threatening Evelyn.

"My lord, may I speak plainly for a moment?" Cullen asked after several moments of silence. The other man gestured for him to continue. "What exactly is the deal that was made between the families? Because from what I can tell, quite honestly, it seems that whatever you need from the deal is being used to blackmail your daughter. It's obvious that her betrothed is using it as leverage to trap her in a marriage she doesn't want, but he certainly does."

Lord Trevelyan frowned and stared at the desk between them for a moment as if considering. "I assume you have a concrete reason for concern? Or has Evelyn told you -"

"My lord, last night I overheard her betrothed confess that he convinced his parents to make this offer because he wants to - because he wants -" Cullen paused, trying to think how to explain without sounding overdramatic or alarmist. "Have you ever considered that you're selling your daughter off to a life of misery just for your 'family name' and some money?"

Lord Trevelyan scowled. "Of course I have," he almost snapped. "You don't think it keeps me up at night? Why else would I still be awake when you bring her home from the clubs every night?"

"I didn't mean to imply that you're heartless, my lord. I just," Cullen sighed and stared at the bookshelf to his right. "It's wrong. She doesn't deserve - _no one_ deserves this. She's being set up for ra - for - for -"

Cullen couldn't even say the word, but he could tell by the way the other man shifted and fidgeted, looking away, that he knew what he was avoiding saying.

"She's the last Trevelyan. She has no siblings, she has no cousins who carry the name," the lord sighed. His voice was low and full of pain. "And the - the manor would be lost. We need... It's an unfortunate situation, but necessary. It comes with the title, it comes with being a noble."

Cullen shook his head. "The line would still continue if you let her choose her own path, her own sp -"

"But without the mone -" the lord shook his head. He looked weary, miserable - and like he hated himself. "I know it must be difficult to understand, seeing as you don't come from nobility. But this is the way things are."

"You may think that, but there's always more than one option," Cullen said firmly. He stood up and stared at the other man for a moment before speaking. "Now, my lord, if you'll excuse me I'm going to get back to doing what you hired me to do. Protect your daughter against _any_ danger she may face."

With that, Cullen turned and headed out of the study, intending to find Evelyn and see if she wanted to grab breakfast at a cafe.

 

Her sitting room door was closed, and he knocked twice before he looked behind him down the hallway and opened the door. He poked his head in, but it was empty.

"My lady?" He called softly.

He received no reply.

He frowned and entered the room, closing the door behind him. He hesitated and then made his way into the bedroom, walking slowly but trying to make noise in case she wasn't decent.

"My lady?" He tried again.

He thought maybe the light was on in the bathroom, and he made his way toward it. Something didn't feel right, but he couldn't explain it. His heart was pounding and he could hear the blood rushing through his veins, his hands shaking as he reached out for the doorknob.

Later when he thought it over, he wasn't even sure why he made his way into the bathroom. All he knew was that he felt compelled to see her, to make sure she was all right after the events of the previous evening.

He didn't know how thankful he would be later that he had listened to his gut.

He opened the door slowly, peering in, and saw her bare feet stretched out  beside the tub. He pushed the door open the rest of the way and saw that she was sitting against the wall. She was wearing only a thin nightgown, her hair wild and flowing around her shoulders.

She was holding a half-empty bottle of vodka and a bottle of pills, staring intently at the label.

"My lady, what -" he closed the bathroom door and rushed forward.

She looked up, surprised. It was evident she'd been crying, and there was an almost vacant look behind her eyes. She stared at him with her brow furrowed like she wasn't quite sure he was really there.

Cullen raced forward and knelt beside her, pulling the bottle of pills from her hand. "How many have you taken?" He asked desperately, opening the bottle and peering in. He'd have to make her throw up, he needed to get them out of her stomach.

"None," she said softly, her voice empty of emotion. "I - I was just about to."

He closed the bottle and put them in his suit jacket pocket before he reached for the bottle of vodka. She was watching him closely, her eyes following his every movement before they peered up into his face. The pain he could see behind her eyes broke his heart.

"I - I can't," she finally whispered, and he realized he wasn't sure what she meant. She couldn't marry Grayson? Or she couldn't go through with what she'd intended? "I can't."

Her voice cracked and she began crying at last, a desperation in her sobs that he'd only ever seen a few places before. They were the tears of someone pushed to their limit, someone who had endured past their breaking point.

He knew them so well because once that had been his pain.

Cullen reached out and pulled her into his arms, and she gladly wrapped an arm around his neck, her other hand gripped his lapel as she buried her face against him.

"I can't," she cried. "The Fade, it - it keeps taunting me, it won't let me forget. It won't let me rest. I - I'm so tired. I just - I just want this to be over."

Cullen held her more tightly against him, wishing there was more he could say than the soft "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," that he kept whispering.

His heart was still pounding. His mind was conjuring the shameful remembrances of the full syringe of softly glowing lyrium that he had once prepared. The glass of whiskey that had sat next to it, the way he had reached for it but his phone had rung.

And that phone call had led him here.

Somehow now the call from Rylen offering him a job had saved two lives.

He held her and rocked her gently as she cried, one arm around her back and the other hand holding the back of her head. He was stroking her hair, tangling his fingers in it and he couldn't resist pressing his mouth against the silky strands on the top of her head.

"I just want this to be over," she sobbed again.

"Don't - please, don't ever - _ever_ say that," he said firmly. "Don't you dare try this ever again. Please, please promise me that. Promise me."

She cried harder like she couldn't believe he cared. Maybe she had thought no one would care if she was gone.

"If you leave, who else will do their best to irritate me all day? Who else will feed me pizza and sing my favorite songs with me when no one else is out on the road? When it's just us, forgetting our problems for a while?"

She pulled back and stared up at him, her brows furrowed. "You would miss me?"

"I would," he confessed quietly. "And I know I'm not the only one."

She considered him for a moment, still staring up at him with a frown, her lightning eyes shining with tears.

"Please don't tell anyone," she whispered after several moments of silence. "I don't know what they'd do. It - it was just a moment of weakness."

"You're not weak," he told her firmly. "And I promise you I won't if you promise me you won't ever try to hurt yourself ever again."

She nodded and hung her head, leaning forward again to rest her head against his chest. He clutched her more tightly again. "Promise me if you ever feel this way that you find me. I don't care what time it is, or what we're doing. Promise me you'll come talk to me instead of doing anything else. Promise."

"I promise," she murmured, and her voice cracked as she started crying again.

Cullen pulled away gently and stooped, wrapping his arms under her and lifting her. He carried her out of the bathroom to her bedroom and laid her on the bed. When he tried to withdraw to tuck her into the sheets she grabbed him by the lapels.

"Please don't leave me - stay, please stay," she pleaded.

He hesitated. It was hardly decent.

But she was in the most desperate pain he'd seen in a long time. He nodded and slipped his shoes off as he removed his suit jacket. He laid it on the foot of the bed and slid in between the sheets with her. He curled himself against her back and she snuggled into his embrace, still crying softly. He held her tightly to him, trying to focus on the fact that she was hurting and not the fact that she was in his arms.

Evelyn was soft, and warm, and she smelled like rain. His face was buried in her hair, and he inhaled her scent deeply. She intertwined her fingers with his, and he had to take a steadying breath.

Comfort. That was all.

He couldn't have her. Despite that it was why she was in so much pain, she was still engaged. And it was his job to protect her.

He was starting to think he had a different definition of protection than everyone else did. Comforting her now was protecting her, for example, though he doubted anyone who walked in would see it that way.

But protecting her from what was causing her pain was beginning to become his priority. If only there was more he could do.

In the meantime, he held her as long as she needed him to. He held her while she dozed fitfully. And when she awoke from a nightmare he brushed her hair off her face and assured her she was all right. When she seemed coherent again, he helped her gather her things and drove her to Dorian's.

What she needed was a friend, but again the other man insisted Cullen join them in the living room. And Evelyn insisted that he sit on the sofa beside her. She curled her legs up and sat leaning against him while she listened to Dorian talk about nothing of importance. Neither Cullen nor Evelyn told Dorian what had happened. Neither one of them mentioned why Evelyn couldn't seem to pull herself away from Cullen's side.

And neither of them mentioned what had happened to each other. Instead a quiet understanding bloomed between them. Cullen had saved her, and she trusted him to continue to keep her safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cullen's memories about his own struggles were inspired by the fic [Right Here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12556396) by [Windysuspirations](http://archiveofourown.org/users/WindySuspirations)
> 
> Read it but have some tissues ready! It's hella angsty but I love it and highly recommend it - TW Suicide.
> 
> xx,  
> Lara


	6. Day 50

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10 hours on planes and never got the wifi to work so instead I wrote this on a memo app. Enjoy a long chapter that finally gets to THAT scene, the one that started this whole fic.
> 
> xx,  
> L

Evelyn seemed to have decided to redouble her efforts to cause a scandal, as her partying had increased in the last few days. Either that or she was struggling to cope and was finally out of control.

Cullen couldn't tell which it was, and frankly he was worried about her.

They still hadn't spoken about what had happened, neither of them mentioning what he had prevented. But sometimes he caught her looking at him with an interesting look in her eyes. Occasionally she reached over and straightened his lapel, or his tie, or brushed one of his waves so that it was back in place.

In these moments, she seemed closer to the sweeter, more vulnerable young woman he believed she actually was. In these moments, he felt a kindred spirit within her, and he had to resist pulling her into his arms and holding her tight against him.

He was still struggling to keep his mind from wandering to imaginings of taking his place between her legs. When she touched him in any way, it was hard not to immediately pull her against him and kiss her.

He hadn't realized just how much he really did want her until he had thought he might lose her in that bathroom. He'd meant what he said, he meant that he would miss her. He'd teased her softly about the time they spent singing together while eating late night food, but those were always the best parts of his days.

He loved those moments.

And he had a feeling she did as well.

But when he entered the manor that morning, he was surprised to see her waiting for him in the foyer.

"Come on, we're leaving," she said quickly, and she motioned for him to follow her to the garage.

"Evie?" He heard her father calling for her down the hall.

"Come on," she hissed, and she half-ran down the hallway.

Cullen increased the length of his strides to keep up with her, amazed at the speed she was able to move at in her heels. He was frowning, curious why she was in such a hurry. He could still hear her father looking for her behind them.

She didn't wait for him to open her door and instead she yanked open the passenger side and got in. He hurried to his side and got in as well, pulling his seatbelt on as he turned on the engine and began to pull out.

"My lady, what are we -"

"Grayson is on his way, along with his family," she said. "They're trying to move the date of the wedding."

He raised his eyebrows and glanced sidelong at her. It was odd to have her in the front seat with him, although he almost thought it felt odd because it felt right.

She belonged next to him.

He shook his head, trying to redirect his thoughts. Even though they were essentially fleeing from the man, she had a fiancé. She still couldn't be his.

He began driving, with no clear destination in mind. Her phone began ringing and she rejected the call. Not even a half-minute later it rang again.

"Damn it," she muttered. "He's probably going to keep calling..."

She heaved a sigh as if readying herself before she answered on the last ring.

"Hey dad," she said, trying to sound casual.

Cullen could hear the tone of the other man's voice and could tell he was livid.

"Oh I thought I told you, I have plans -" she grimaced when her father interrupted her. "No I'll be gone all day. I can't reschedule, sorry, I promised -"

She held the phone away from her ear and looked at Cullen, and he could tell her father was yelling. She stifled a giggle as she made eye contact with him, and he raised his eyebrows at her.

"It's not like you'd listen to my input even if I was there. I made plans, I'm sorry," she said airily. "I probably won't see you until tomorrow. Bye papa."

She hung up the phone and giggled. "I can't believe I did that," she confessed. "I was hoping you'd get there before they did, luckily they ran late."

"I'm glad I could be of assistance, my lady," he chuckled. "So where are we headed? Dorian's?"

"No, Bull just got in last night from another job, they'll be busy until later," she sighed. "I didn't really have a destination in mind. I just wanted out of there, I didn't want to see him again."

Cullen nodded, finding himself agreeing with her. "A cafe maybe? Have you had breakfast?"

She shook her head. "Is it too early for wine?" She giggled.

He shrugged and made no comment.

"How about mimosas? Let's go have brunch somewhere, my treat," she said. She scooted closer on the bench seat beside him, and brushed something off his shoulder. He wondered if anything was actually there or if she was simply making an excuse to touch him.

It had to be the first option. There was no way she thought about him like that.

"Thanks for the rescue again," she murmured, and she pressed her lips to his cheek. This time, they lingered and she flexed them softly, making the kiss feel intimate and suggestive.

He cleared his throat. "Of course, my lady."

She sighed softly and then turned back to face the front of the car instead of him. She still seemed irritated sometimes when he addressed her so, but he refused to remove that barrier between them. He needed to remind himself of who she was and that she was off limits.

She was making that harder with how sweet and friendly she was being. All through brunch she smiled and giggled, she asked him about himself and she told him stories. She even insisted on feeding him a bite of her food so he could try it.

Maker, she was _flirting_ with him.

He had to mentally shake himself and scoot his chair further back. He had to keep himself stiff and formal, and it seemed to irritate her.

"Are you all right, Cullen?" She asked, and he made the mistake of looking at her. She was leaning forward, her breasts resting on the table and pushing up so that her cleavage was more noticeable.

He stared at her slack-jawed for a few moments before he shook his head and cleared his throat.

"I'm fine, my lady," he said, and he noticed his voice sounded strained.

"It's just us, Cullen, you can call me Evelyn. After all, you..." she trailed off and stared at him for a moment before she looked away. "I think we're past the point of formality wouldn't you agree?"

"No," he insisted. "As long as I work for you, we're bound by formality."

She looked like she wanted to protest but instead she heaved a sigh. "I suppose."

And at least for the rest of brunch, she stopped trying to flirt or get him to call her Evelyn, instead talking distantly with him about music and Ferelden. She seemed more reserved, and he wished he hadn't had to refuse her request.

 

  
The phone call came while she was changing at Dorian's. Cullen could hear her take the call as he stood waiting outside the door and he heard the tone of her voice change after she said hello.

"When?!" She cried. "You can't be serious, you can't mean it -"

There was silence, and then he heard a frustrated sob and the sound of something colliding with the wall. He hurried into the room, worried that she had hurt herself.

The pieces of her phone lay scattered below the wall next to the door. She was kneeling in the middle of the guest room, her shoulders shaking with her sobs. He hurried forward and knelt before her, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"In two months," she murmured. "In two lousy months. There's not enough time, they're serious, nothing I do has worked. I - I can't."

He pulled her against him, remembering the way she had said that before. Her voice sounded the same, and his heart began racing.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered and he stroked her hair. "What can I do?"

"Tell me death isn't an option, tell me I can find another way."

"There's always another way," he told her.  
She lifted her head and looked up at him, and she was frowning like she was thinking hard, considering something intently.

"We have an evening out planned, I need to get ready," she said, her voice hollow and emotionless.

She stood and he noticed the short skirt and bare halter top she was wearing, and he had to clear his throat. He took a moment before he stood as well, trying to redirect the blood flow from where it wanted to go in response to the sight of so much of her creamy skin.

 

He drove she, Dorian, and Bull to the club they were headed to, and he felt almost superfluous as a guard next to the large Qunari. Still though he followed them inside and kept close to where she sat.

He watched and his heart ached as she ordered and drank several shots of vodka in a row. She wasn't laughing as much as she normally did, instead she was scanning the crowd. After several drinks she finally pushed out of the VIP booth they were in and made her way into the crowd to dance. Cullen watched her intently as she began to move, and he noticed that she was trying to catch someone's attention.

A man approached her and began to dance behind her, and she responded eagerly. Cullen tried to bury the odd feeling that swelled in his chest at the sight. It felt like jealousy.

When the man slid his hands up her thighs and under her skirt, Cullen finally acted. He pushed through the few people between them and grabbed the man by the arm and pulled him away. Evelyn was yelling at the man, pushing him, and in the scuffle a sudden burst of lightning popped off of her skin. Cullen saw her holding sparks in her hand as she glared at the man, and he searched within himself for the last bit of lyrium that may be coursing through his veins. He tried to cast a Silence, but the sparks in her hand barely flickered in response.

The crowd around them had backed away, staring at the spectacle happening in the middle of the dance floor.

Cullen grabbed her by the arm, shoving the man away from them as he did. He pulled her through the crowd to the exit, his heart racing. She was resisting, but he was stronger than her and he managed to get her outside to the car. He opened the passenger seat and shoved her inside before he made his way to the driver's side. Once he was in the car he turned to face her, the sound of his blood in his veins pounding in his ears.

"What were you thinking?" He demanded harshly.

"Which part? Dancing with another man or defending myself?" She cried, her voice matching his in volume.

"My lady, if you'd hurt him with your magic, they would lock you away, they'd send you to -" he stopped talking and stared at her. Her face was resolute, her chin raised slightly as tears welled in her eyes. "But you know that, don't you."

"Of course I know that," she whispered, her tone venomous. "Every mage knows that."

"You think being locked away like a criminal will be better than marriage?" He asked her, incredulous.

"Yes," she answered firmly, and she turned her gaze to him.

"I used to work at those places, trust me - I'd take my chances with Grayson if I was you."

She glared at him, and tears finally began to roll down her cheeks. "You don't - you can't imagine -"

"Yes, actually, I can," he said softly. He tried not to think about the cage, about what had happened at Kinloch.

He sighed and shook his head, finally turning the key in the ignition and beginning to drive.

"Don't take me home," she murmured.

"I have to. You need to go home."

"No, please, anywhere but there, please -"

He sighed and shook his head again, staring out the window as he waited for a light to turn green.

"Andraste preserve me," he muttered, and he suddenly turned right and drove to the park he'd taken her to before. He put the car in park and they sat silently looking out the windshield at the stars. "I have to take you home eventually."

She was silent for a moment and then gave a hollow chuckle. "Only if I cooperate."

She opened her door suddenly and got out of the car. He muttered a curse and got out as well, and she ran to the back of the car.

"My lady, please stop," he gritted out.

It had been ages since she'd been so irritating.

"You'll have to force me to go home," she called to him as she circled to the front of the car again to avoid his approach. "In fact -"

And she pulled herself onto the hood of the towncar and knelt on it. She looked at him challengingly. "Now you can't leave. And since you pulled me out of the club, I'll just have to dance by myself."

She turned music on her phone, and he knew she wouldn’t get off the car hood willingly.

“My lady, please get down, I need to drive you home,” he said firmly.

“ _Dig if you will the picture_ ,” she sang along to the song, her voice low and sultry. “ _Of you and I engaged in a kiss. The sweat of your body covers me – Can you my darling, can you picture this?_ ”

She was kneeling on the car hood still, and she was gyrating her hips and rolling her head on her shoulders, her long, full black hair tossing wildly around her head.

“Lady Trevelyan -” he began, trying not to be mesmerized by the sight of her writhing on the hood of the black limo. She was doing this on purpose, he was certain of it.

“ _They feel the heat – the heat between me and you_ ,” she sang, so sinfully she almost sounded like she was purring it.

“Please -”

“You’ll have to get me off,” she challenged again, her eyes locking with his as she continued to roll her hips in tandem with the beat. “ _Maybe I’m just too demanding, maybe I’m just like my father – too bold. Maybe you’re just like my mother – she’s never satisfied_.”

He walked toward her, intending to pull her off the hood of the car, to get her safely into the town car so he could take her home, like he should have in the first place. As soon as he got close enough to her, her fingers snaked out and wrapped themselves in the lapel of his suit and she tugged him toward her. She pulled him against the car and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him to her as she continued to roll her hips and her body, so that she was pressing against him. The thin fabric of her barely-there halter top provided little barrier between them, and he could feel the soft pressure of her breasts against his chest.

It was intoxicating, and he couldn’t focus.

“Cullen,” she moaned, and she threw her head back on her shoulders. “ _Don’t make me chase you, even doves have pride_.”

She was still singing along in low moans, almost wriggling against him as he tried to take her into his arms to pull her off the hood. Somehow, he managed to gather her in his arms but she struggled until suddenly he was leaning against the hood of the car, and she was straddling him. Her knees were resting on the edge of the car, and she began to grind herself against him, lifting herself up and down and pressing firm against his crotch.

He was already hard despite himself, because the sight of her dancing like this was far too tantalizing. She moaned when she seemed to notice, redoubling her efforts to rub herself against him. He wanted to try to resist; he knew he needed to push her off of him, but the feeling was too intense. He'd been thinking about being between her legs too much, and now he was, feeling her move against him.

It was wrong, but he couldn’t think straight.

“La-lady Trevelyan, please -” he tried to begin again.

“Evelyn,” she murmured. “My name is Evelyn.”

She groaned, and was still rubbing herself on him. She was leaning forward, her lips brushing against his as she spoke, but he wouldn’t quite call it a kiss. She hadn’t yet pressed her mouth to his or sought out his tongue, she was simply letting their lips brush as her heavy breaths mingled with his and she moaned. She was still rolling her hips against his, her hands twisting into his hair as she whispered his name and softly purred the lyrics to the song.

“How can you just leave me standing? Alone in a world that’s so cold?” she sang softly, her voice a breathy whisper.

He groaned, feeling almost close to the edge as she continued pressing and grinding herself to him. “Ev-Evelyn, wait – wait, stop, you’re upset, and you're drunk.”

“I know,” she murmured huskily, and she continued brushing her lips teasingly against his. “Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to ask you – Cullen, do you want me?”

“Yes,” he breathed, before he could stop himself.

“I hoped so,” she whispered, and she teased him with the slow speed of her hips as she rubbed against him. “Do you want to touch me?”

“I do,” he answered again, before he could resist. “But – Maker’s breath, Evelyn, I shouldn’t – I need to get you home.”

He was trying to protest, but she was still panting against his lips and suddenly he crushed his mouth to hers, finally wanting to taste her, to feel her respond to him. He'd denied how desperately he wanted to do this for too long.

She moaned and twisted her lips against his, her fingers running through his hair, her hips still rocking against his erection. Considering how drunk she was and how unanticipated it was on his behalf, the kiss was remarkable, and he felt like he couldn’t get enough of the feeling. He kept slanting his mouth against hers, trying to kiss her more deeply.

“Cul-len,” she whimpered as she broke their kiss. “Tell me – tell me you want me. Tell me you want to take me. I want you – I want you to.”

He couldn’t answer, but he slid his hand along her thigh and up under her mini skirt. He couldn't stop himself, he didn't even want to try. He slipped his fingers into her panties and touched her, noticing just how wet she already was. He focused for a moment on the dance between their tongues as he swirled a finger around her clit and he reveled in the gasps and moans she made.

 

The song was still playing and she was moaning and rubbing her hips against his fingers almost in tandem to its rhythm.

She moaned his name again and he slid his fingers lower and pushed two inside of her.

She cried out, and after a moment began to thrust herself lightly up and down on his fingers.

“Yessssss,” she hissed, her eyes shut tight. “Cullen, oh – Cullen, please, Maker, make me – I want to come, please, please.”

He slid his thumb against her clit as he continued moving his fingers within her, and she was gasping and crying out his name. He shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as he was, he shouldn’t be letting this happen.

But he did, and he was.

She was rolling her hips against him and soon he felt her beginning to clench and throb around him. She was whimpering, and when she finally came she nearly screamed his name, still gyrating her hips, rocking and bouncing herself on his fingers as she easily found her release just from his touch.

“Cull-Cullen, oh Cullen,” she moaned as she slowed in her frantic pace against him.

He rubbed his nose gently against hers as he watched her trying to catch her breath.

And then suddenly he realized what he had done.

“Damn it, Evelyn,” he gasped, and he pulled his fingers from her.

She took his hand in hers and held his fingers up to her mouth, sliding them between her lips and licking her flavor off of them.

He groaned, his eyes struggling to stay open as he enjoyed the sensation of her sucking his fingers. The sight of them between her lips almost broke his resolve.

“Evelyn, no – we shouldn’t have – fuck,” he murmured. He rarely swore, but this was one of the moments that he felt it was the only word that adequately summarized the mixture of emotions he was feeling.

“There’s a blanket in the car,” she breathed against his lips. “We could put it down on the seat – please? We can -”

“No, we can’t,” he gritted out, and he stood and let her slide down his front until her feet were touching the ground. He held her steady for just a moment until he was certain she wouldn’t fall over.

“Please, I can’t – I can’t stand the -” and suddenly she was sobbing, her shoulders heaving and her breaths coming out as hiccoughs and gasps. “Don’t you want me? I can’t – I can’t go through with this, I don’t want him to be the first, I can't marry him -”

He stared at her, completely taken aback by the tone of her voice. He thought she was drunk, he thought she was just out of control. He thought she was just hurting. But her pleading tone broke his heart. Her drunkenness was just making it worse, making her handle everything the wrong way.

“My lady,” he murmured, and he reached out to take her into his arms.

“Don’t you _dare_ call me that after what – after what you just did to me,” she hissed, and she turned her bleary gaze on him. She looked furious and wounded.

“I’m sorry, I just – Evelyn, I’m – I’m responsible for you, and you're engaged,” he explained quickly. “I can’t, I can’t get involved with you. I never should have done what I just did.”

She glared at him, tears still pouring down her cheeks. “Then why did you?”

“I was telling the truth,” he confessed softly. “I want you. And tomorrow I’ll – tomorrow I’ll put in my resignation. I can’t look after you after what just happened. Your parents can’t trust me around you anymore.”

Her eyes widened as she took in his words. “You’re leaving me?” she whispered. “No, Cullen, you can’t – please, please don’t do that. I’ll never tell a soul, I’ll never – please, you can’t leave.”

“I have to, it’s not right,” he insisted.

“Please,” she begged softly, and she began to cry harder once more. “I need you here, I can’t let you go. Please.”

He hadn’t thought that she felt that strongly about it, thinking that he had to be the only one who felt anything close to this. But he remembered how close she tried to get to him after that day, after he'd -

“Evelyn,” he began slowly. “Do you – do you actually want me, or do you -”

“Yes,” she interrupted quickly, as if rushing to assure him. “Fuck, Cullen, just look at yourself. And you’re – you’re always so sweet to me, even when I was mean to you. And you...you listen, you - you saved me."

The look in her eyes was genuine, her truthfulness increased by the alcohol. It was the first time either of them had fully acknowledged what had happened between them out loud. Somehow hearing her confess it made him realize how deeply she possibly felt.

She wanted him. She even seemed like maybe she cared for him.

“I’m sorry for how I used to treat you,” she murmured. She tilted her head up, and she looked so lost, so innocent and endearing.

He cupped her cheeks with his hands and stared down into her translucent eyes for a moment before he lowered his mouth to hers again. He couldn’t fight the urge, he had to kiss her again. And this time it wasn’t sloppy, it wasn’t a messy kiss while she tried to drunkenly seduce him.

It was tender, and gentle, soft passion as their lips moved against each other, their tongues slowly gliding along one another as they tasted each other. She let out a soft moan and almost seemed like her knees went weak. She was gripping the front of his shirt, holding him down to her.

“Cullen,” she whispered against his lips. “I don’t want anyone but you.”

His heart soared even though he knew it shouldn't. But he wanted her, he wanted only her.

Not like this, though. Not drunk and crying, when she'd been as upset as she had been.

"Let me take you home," he whispered. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, his thumbs stroking her cheeks.

"Only if you promise you won't resign. Promise me you'll stay," she murmured, and she ran her fingers through the hair on the back of his head.

"I promise," he grinned at her. "We'll talk - we'll talk about this tomorrow."

She was silent for a moment, and they rubbed their noses against each other lightly. It was a gentle, understanding gesture, intimate and sweet. It felt as beautiful as a kiss.

"All right," she finally murmured against his lips, and they shared one last gentle kiss of promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously I don't own rights of any of these songs.


	7. Day 51

When she woke up, it was from a beautiful dream in the Fade and for a moment she couldn't think of anything but how odd that was.

For months now the Fade had tormented her, it had summoned Grayson and his leers. It had transformed into her wedding, into her wedding night. Again and again she'd dreamt that she was trying to hold off her overeager husband. She felt shame when she thought of the times she had failed or given up and let the Fade's conjurings act out her inner torment.

Now though she woke up hot and wet, but not because of something she hadn't wanted to happen. Instead all she could remember was the way the Fade had recreated her kisses with Cullen, again and again. It had even gotten the look in his eyes right, the tenderness he'd shown her.

She woke up on the verge of coming, the Fade recreating the way his fingers had moved within and against her. She moaned and squeezed her thighs together.

Maker it had been more magnificent to be touched that way than she'd ever imagined. She looked at the clock by the bed and realized he'd be arriving any moment.

 _We'll talk about this tomorrow_.

She intended to make him keep his word on that. Finally excited, finally feeling eager anticipation for something for the first time in months, she threw back the sheets and hopped out of bed.

She dressed more normally than she had since they'd met, throwing on jeans and a loose sweater, with ballet flats instead of heels. She brushed her hair and put on lip balm before she raced out of her bedroom.

He was standing in the foyer, his hands in his pockets. When he saw her he grinned, almost like he had a secret he wanted to share with her.

She raced down the stairs and stopped before him, looking up with a shy smile.

"Hello," he greeted her.

"Hello," she replied. His crooked grin widened and she flushed slightly at the memory of the night before. "Ready to go?"

He gestured for her to lead the way. She felt her heart racing as she led the way to the garage, occasionally looking over her shoulder at him. The grin on his face remained as he looked at the keys in his hand.

When they reached the car she opened the passenger door and got in, and he took his place beside her.

"Kiss me," she whispered.

He looked at her for a moment before he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. It was tender again, and she felt her heart flutter as she responded gently.

"Where to?" He asked as he pulled away.

"There's a cute little place we could get take out for breakfast," she murmured, almost sounding breathless. "And then we could go somewhere private, somewhere to talk."

He grinned and nodded. "As you wish, my lady."

It was teasing, it was playful and endearing. She giggled as he pulled the car out of the garage. She gave him directions to the restaurant, sitting close to him and running her fingers through his hair. He smiled and spoke softly to her, sweet and carefree.

She was able to completely forget that she was engaged to another man.

She ran into the restaurant and got them take out, smiling the whole time. She slid back into the car and kissed him on the cheek.

"Let's go somewhere just the two of us, somewhere no one else can disturb us," she whispered against his ear.

He was thinking, his brows slightly furrowed.

"What about your place?" She suggested.

His frown deepened and he looked at her for a moment. "I suppose we could..."

"Please, I just want to be alone with you," she murmured, and pressed a kiss to his lips.

He chuckled and nodded. "All right, my place."

They turned the radio on and sang as they drove, comfortable and enjoying themselves and their time with each other.

When they arrived at his apartment he opened the door and almost looked like he gave her an embarrassed, apologetic grin. She walked in and looked around, and besides its tiny size she noticed that it was sparsely decorated, only containing the basic necessities. It had the feel of somewhere that was infrequently inhabited and only served purpose and function.

Yet somehow, she felt right at home.

"I love it," she murmured, looking around with a smile.

He chuckled but made no reply.

They both kicked off their shoes and he removed his suit jacket before he brought them flatware from the kitchen.

"I'm sorry, I don't have any champagne for mimosas," he told her.

She giggled. "Do you have some coffee or tea?"

She didn't know how to tell him she didn't used to drink as much as she had been recently. Coffee sounded perfect.

He nodded and began to set up the coffee pot while she got their food out.

This felt natural, it almost felt like a date.

It was the first real one she'd ever had.

He brought their coffee over and sat beside her on his small, worn sofa. For a time they ate in silence, and then finally she cleared her throat.

"You said we'd talk today," she began timidly.

He slowed in his chewing, looking thoughtful. He swallowed and shook his head slightly. "I meant for us to talk before I kissed you again, before we did something like this. But," he raised his gaze to hers. "Evelyn, you're - you're wonderful, and I -"

"You're wonderful too," she murmured when he hesitsted.

They both set down their take out, and he rubbed his hands together as he thought, his elbows resting on his knees.

"What I want though doesn't change our circumstances. You're still engaged, and I'm still - I'm still your father's employee."

She shook her head. "I don't care about any of that," she said emphatically.

"But you should," he sighed. "What else can we be? This - this can't lead anywhere."

She bit her lip, thinking.

She knew what this attraction had started as for her. She knew the plan she'd meant to enact, the seduction she'd meant to pursue as a way to break her contract with Grayson's family.

But now?

Now she actually cared about him. Now she wanted him because she felt safe, normal, and happy when she was with him.

She wanted him because he made her heart race and her knees weak. Because she felt like he was one of the only genuine people she'd met in her entire life.

She made a decision, and she scooted toward him on the sofa and gently encouraged him to lean back. She crawled into his lap, straddling him as she rubbed her hands up and down the back of his neck.

"Evelyn," he began, his voice low.

"Cullen, forget all of that," she said. "I want you. You want me. That should be all that matters."

"If only life was that simple," he sighed.

"Why can't it be?" She murmured.

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, and for a moment he hesitated.

He sat forward and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight against him. He twisted his mouth against hers as he slid a hand into her hair and she moaned softly. He continued to increase the intensity he was kissing her with until she was almost struggling to breathe. He suddenly pulled away.

"We - we should -"

"Please, don't say it," she whispered. "Just let me pretend, just let me feel like I have some say for a change."

He held her gaze and his eyes almost looked sad. She leaned down and kissed him again, and he slid his hands down her back to the bottom of her sweater. He hesitated only a moment before he slipped a hand under it and let it glide softly over her skin. He pulled back from the kiss and stared at her for a moment as if silently asking permission, and she smiled and nodded. He continued his hand's progress as he resumed kissing her, and he began to caress one of her breasts. She gasped and moaned, breaking the kiss for a moment as she enjoyed the new sensation of being touched.

His hands were hot, and his palms were lightly calloused and rough. It was oddly pleasing, feeling him so in contrast to her soft, cool skin.

"Evelyn, I've - I've thought about this so much," he confessed softly against her lips.

"Me too," she sighed.

He took hold of the bottom of her sweater and lifted it, pulling it over her head.

"Maker's breath, you're so beautiful," he murmured. He leaned down and ran his tongue over one of her nipples, and she gave a soft cry. She'd never been touched like he touched her, and the feeling was sending small shockwaves of pleasure through her. His mouth was hot and wet against her as he sucked and licked at her breasts, his attention becoming greedier as he went. His large hands were splayed on her back, holding her to him as she moaned and ran her hands through his wavy hair.

She rocked her hips gently, realizing she could feel him hard in his slacks again. He groaned and pulled her closer, sliding his tongue up her neck as he did.

She moaned his name and undid his tie, pulling it off of him so she could undo the buttons of his shirt. She got them halfway undone, reveling in the sight of his muscled chest when a loud ringing noise broke the silence.

"That's my phone," he said, and he shifted so he could reach it on the coffee table behind her. "Andraste - it's your father."

They stared at each other for a moment before he cleared his throat and answered the call.

"Hello?" He answered, and she could tell he was trying to keep his tone even. He listened for a moment and glanced up at Evelyn. "No, my lord, her phone was damaged, she was - heading to get a new one today, I believe she said. She's at breakfast at the moment."

He listened again and closed his eyes, an almost pained look coming across his face. "Of course, my lord. I understand, and I'll - see that she gets there. Would you like to speak with her? I can get her for you."

He listened again and frowned. "Yes, my lord. I will."

He hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment, a scowl on his face.

"What did he say?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"You're meeting your mother at two this afternoon," he answered slowly. "So that you can go wedding dress shopping."

Evelyn felt all of the blood drain from her face. "Is it just her?"

He nodded, but he was still staring at his phone.

She knew what he had to be thinking. That phone call had brought reality crashing into the room, destroying the peace they had been searching for.

She wanted to cry.

Instead she looked around and reached for her sweater, spending a moment fixing it so it wasn't inside out from how he'd pulled it off her. She glanced up and saw Cullen watching her intently, his shirt still half undone. He sat up and scooted forward on the sofa, still holding her on his lap, one of his hands resuming its place on her back.

"Evelyn," he said softly. He stared at her for a moment like he had something he wanted to say, and she found herself unable to tear her eyes away from his. She waited, holding her breath and she wasn't even sure why. He shook his head though and looked down, but he was met with the sight of her bare chest when he did. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to first one breast and then the other, and she moaned softly.

"I don't want to stop what we're doing," she murmured.

"We need to get you a new phone, and -"

"That's not what I meant," she sighed.

"I know," he told her, and he pressed a kiss to her neck. "But for now, let's do what we need to to keep up appearances."

She sighed wistfully and nodded. "I suppose you're right."

She finally pulled her sweater back on and got out of his lap. He heaved just as deep of a sigh as she had as he began to button his shirt and put his tie back on.

"Will you stay with me? This afternoon?" She asked.

He stilled, halfway through retying his tie. He looked up at her with a frown. "You want me to be there while you're picking out a dress for - for your wedding to someone else?"

"I - I didn't mean it like that, I just," she looked around, at a loss for words. "I can't do it without you. I...I need you, Cullen. You make me feel like it isn't hopeless. Please."

He slowly continued tying his tie, looking like he was thinking hard. Finally he nodded. "All right, Evelyn. I'll go with you."


	8. Day 51.5

The small bridal shop was positively stifling.

Everything was white and lace and glittering, and it almost hurt his eyes. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, trying to ignore how uncomfortable he was.

She said she needed him, she said she needed him to stay and support her, and so he would.

Even though standing there watching her model dress after dress was like slow torture. He had to convince himself it was some sort of game, that it wasn't for a wedding. He had to try to convince himself that it wouldn't happen. He couldn't let himself think about her actually marrying another man.

He tried to hide his scowl as she walked out in yet another long, white dress.

"Evie, dear, that looks wonderful," her mother said.

He had rarely met her mother, since she was always busy with charity work or traveling. She seemed nice enough, if not slightly too aware that she was nobility. When she had seen Cullen sticking close to Evelyn when they entered the shop, she had frowned and asked if it was necessary that he was there. Evelyn had shrugged off her objection and insisted he was there to make sure no paparazzi got in.

Now he watched as Evelyn again wrinkled her nose at her mother and began describing everything she hated about the dress. She had so far heavily criticized each dress she'd tried, being as difficult as she could be. He could tell her mother was getting frustrated with her, but she didn't give up in her refusals.

She sauntered back into the changing room to try on yet another dress, and Cullen checked his watch before he looked around the room. They'd been at it for three hours.

He closed his eyes for a moment and his mind immediately conjured the image of her half-naked on his lap. He wondered if he should feel more ashamed about how much he'd enjoyed having her alone in his apartment. How much he'd enjoyed having her to himself to touch as he pleased.

He mentally shook himself and tried to redirect his mind, not wanting to excite himself with the memory in the middle of the dress shop. He cleared his throat and looked around, but all of the sparkling, glittering white hurt his eyes and he returned his gaze to the door Evelyn was behind. He tried to keep his face stoic, he tried to remain neutral, even though inside he was warring with a multitude of emotions.

The door opened and she walked out, and this time he felt his heart begin to race at the sight of her.

The dress was simple, creamy satin. It wasn't poofy at all, it was long and straight and held to the soft curves of her body. It looked beautiful, it looked right on her.

And suddenly he got an image in his head of her wearing that dress walking down an aisle.

An aisle he was at the end of, waiting for her as she smiled radiantly at him.

He swallowed hard and turned away. He needed to get out of there, to clear his mind for at least a minute. He walked swiftly to the door and left, hesitating right outside the door. The evening breeze was a welcome relief, and for a moment he just stood and took deep breaths.

He hadn't ever thought like that about anyone, and it was surprising to him. He knew he cared about her, but now he was beginning to realize just how much.

He heaved a sigh when he remembered their situation, and his heart ached. The image he had of her in that dress wasn't likely to ever happen. At least, not with him waiting at the end of the aisle for her.

* * *

Evelyn got into the back of the car, feeling close to frustrated tears.

She hadn't been able to refuse. The last dress she'd tried on had actually been beautiful, had actually felt like her. If she were to get married, she'd want to wear it. But not to him, not for this sham of a wedding.

She'd struggled to criticize it though and her mother had pounced on her hesitation. It hadn't helped that Cullen had stepped outside, and she'd been distracted wondering where he went. She could tell he was upset, she knew how horrible it was that she'd asked him to accompany her. But her rejections and refusals had been easier when she was able to glance over and see him standing there. The sight of him gave her the courage to try to fight what was happening to her 

 Now she watched hesitantly as he started the car and began to drive away. She waited until they were several blocks away before she deemed the coast was clear and she sat forward in her seat.

"I'm sorry," she whispered against his neck. She pressed soft kisses to his warm skin, and she felt goose bumps prickle his flesh in response.

"You don't need to apologize," he said, but his voice almost sounded strained.

"I shouldn't have made you go with me, it was cruel," she told him.

"The dress is very beautiful, it - it will look -"

"Don't," she murmured, and she placed her forehead on his shoulder. "Please don't."

She felt hot tears slide down her cheeks but she didn't pay any attention to them. Seeing herself in a dress had made it even more real to her. She felt like she was suffocating, trapped.

The car slowed and stopped, and Cullen moved and got out of the car. She lifted her head, wiped her cheeks, and looked around. They were in a deserted parking lot, everything dark around them.

She watched as he stood for a moment outside the car, almost as if he was thinking. Then he opened the door to the back seat and she moved to the other side so he could join her.

For a moment they stared at each other, and then he reached into his suit jacket. He pulled out a single white rose and handed it to her, almost looking sheepish.

"I wandered into the flower shop that was next door, and it - it made me think of you," he told her.

She held the rose up and smelled it, inhaling deeply. "Thank you, Cullen."

They held each other's gaze for a moment before he took the rose from her and set it down on the floor of the car. He moved toward her and kissed her, gently cupping her cheek as he twisted his mouth against hers. She moaned and felt his other hand sliding along her side, and suddenly he pulled her hip and pushed her back until she was lying beneath him on the seat.

Their kissing intensified, as if everything they were trying to say to each other could be conveyed through their embrace. She was raking her fingers through his hair, and he ran his hands over her breasts through her sweater. There was an impatience in his movements, and she tried to roll her hips against him to encourage him. She didn't want to stop, she wanted more. She felt certain he did as well, and when he pulled back and locked eyes with her, she saw a glimmer in the amber depths that made her breath catch.

He shrugged out of his suit jacket and placed it on the floor, and he began to undo her jeans. Her heart was racing, her breaths starting to leave her in gasps and pants. He tugged her jeans and her underwear off of her, throwing them aside before he slid his hands along her thighs as he drank in the sight of her.

He grinned and leaned back over her, recapturing her lips with his as he began to touch her. She moaned his name and undid his tie, unbuttoning his shirt and pushing it off his shoulders.

"Evelyn, do you -"

"Yes," she whispered, and she slid her hands down his muscular waist to the buckle of his belt to undo it. Her hands were trembling, excitement and nervousness coursing through her as she reached into his pants and pulled his hard length free.

He groaned when she touched him and rested his forehead against hers. For a moment they touched each other, exploring one another and moaning softly as they familiarized themselves with the feeling.

He shifted his hips and pulled her legs wider before he pressed his tip to her. She expected him to hesitate, she expected him to ask her again if she wanted him to.

Instead he gently began to ease himself in, going slowly and tenderly as he pushed his thick, long shaft past her tight resistance. She moaned his name when he finally settled himself within her fully, and she pressed her lips together as she tried to adjust to the feeling. He had stretched her, he had filled her completely, and somehow made her feel whole.

He held himself still for a moment, and she could tell he was breathing deeply as he tried to give her a moment. When he began to move, it was slow, tender, his every thrust full of great care.

The feeling every time he thrust back into her sent ripples of pleasure through her and soon she was mewling, crying his name softly as he rolled his hips into her. The sounds she was making seemed to excite him further because he began moving faster in response, groaning as he did. The sound of him pushing into her wet tightness accented his movements, and the car was rocking as he thrust into her again and again.

He slid a finger to her small bundle of nerves and began to touch her, and she cried out as she felt herself flutter around him.

"Cullen - Cullen I'm -" she gasped, and he jerked his hips a bit more forcefully as she fell apart around him. He nibbled her neck, burying his face against her as his pace changed and became sporadic. She felt him throb slightly, and he pushed as deep as he could as he groaned and she felt his release pool deep within her.

For several long moments everything was still and silent besides their breathing.

"Evelyn -" he murmured against her neck.

"Don't say it," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Please don't say we shouldn't have, don't say you regret it."

If he told her he regretted it, she wasn't sure she'd be able to stand it. She thought for certain she would break if he said it had been a mistake.

He lifted his head, an intense look in his eyes. "I don't," he said, his tone even and firm. "Of course I don't."

 He pressed kisses to her lips and her face, his every gesture tender and reassuring.

"I want to be with you," she confessed. "I don't know if I even mean forever, I just...I want to be able to go to dinner with you. I want to hold your hand in a movie theatre. I want to go dancing, and have you escort me home and kiss me good night. I - I just want to be able to choose. I - I want to choose you."

He stared down at her, his eyes sparkling. "You have. Don't worry Evelyn, we'll figure something out."

She gave him a soft smile but then frowned. He seemed to have more confidence than he had before, earlier that day when she tried to convince him they could make it work.

"I suppose you'll have to take me home now," she sighed tentatively.

"Not yet," he chuckled. "We can stay here, just a while longer."

He leaned forward and gently rubbed his nose against hers.

She thought about what they had just done, the realization finally sinking in. She'd been so caught up in him, so caught up in the feeling of _want_ that she hadn't paused to consider all of the ramifications.

Her contract was void now. He was right, she _had_ chosen him. And yet she wasn't sure how she could prove it. She wasn't sure she would be able to ruin this feeling of contentment by confessing what they'd done to anyone. It would cheapen it, it would make it seem like she'd done it just to get out of her arrangement.

But maybe he was right, she thought as he slid his mouth along the column of her throat and pushed her sweater up so he could capture her nipple with his tongue. They'd figure something out, and in the meantime, she'd enjoy this feeling of him savoring her in the backseat of the car.

Nothing had ever felt more right.


	9. Day 62

He fumbled with the key in the lock, struggling to keep his eyes open and focused on his task as he groaned.

She was sliding her mouth along his neck, sucking gently, nipping lightly with her teeth as her fingers raked through his hair.

He finally got the door unlocked and opened it, and without hesitation he stooped and lifted her into his arms. She wrapped her legs around him and crashed her mouth against his, her fingers still tugging his hair as she moaned. He carried her into the small, dim apartment and kicked the door shut behind them before he carried her over to his bed.

She giggled as they fell on it, both bouncing slightly as the frame creaked with their weight.

“Mmm, Cullen, hurry up, take your suit off,” she panted against his lips and her fingers flew to his tie and began to undo it.

He smirked down at her. “So impatient,” he teased lightly.

“You’re the one that sang ‘I’m Your Man,’ in my ear,” she told him, sounding even more breathless as she watched him hastily stripping out of his clothes. “Your voice singing along to Leonard Cohen – _Maker_ , just take me already.”

He chuckled and fumbled with his belt as he stood and slipped his shoes off. He peeled his pants off, followed quickly by his boxer briefs and socks. He reached over and slid her dress up her body and over her head, and groaned when he saw she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

“Evelyn, I can’t get enough of the sight of you,” he murmured as he joined her on the bed once more. He grabbed her and pulled her onto him, lying back while she sat up and peered down at him.

“Is that so?” she asked, biting her lip and smiling.

“Yes,” he moaned as she took his erection in her small hand. She lifted her hips and positioned herself over him before she slid herself slowly onto him. “Maker’s breath, you feel amazing.”

“So you keep telling me,” she gasped. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, her long black hair spilling down her back and over her shoulders. She hesitated a few moments before she began to lift her hips slowly, teasingly, moving as if she was torturing him with her pace.

“More, please -” he implored her, and he took her hips in his hands and gave her extra leverage so she could pick up her pace.

She didn’t, though, instead still moving slowly up and down and rocking herself gently. “No, I want to watch you – the look on your face, the way you moan every time I move -”

He moaned as she said it, feeling overwhelmed with the feeling of her around him. They were watching each other, greedy and attentive as she continued moving above him. His nails dug into her hips, he bit his lip as he watched her chest slowly heaving as she thrust on him.

After what felt like an eternity of her teasing him and watching him, he could feel her fluttering around him and she finally began to pick up her pace. The tension had built between them so intensely that when their rhythm and thrusts against each other became frantic, it took only a few moments before she was crying his name. He rolled them over and after only a few thrusts he pulled himself from her and spilled his seed on her tight stomach. He collapsed on top of her, the sticky mess of his release between them, covering both of their stomachs. Neither of them cared.

“You’re already so good at that,” he murmured huskily.

She giggled. “I’m just acting out all the fantasies I’ve had of you.”

He tightened his arms around her and twisted a hand into her hair. He still couldn’t believe sometimes that this was actually happening, that she was actually here in his bed, that he was inside her and had just felt her come undone around him.

It had been over a week now of pure bliss. They left in the mornings and came to his apartment, where he made them breakfast and coffee and they talked or watched television. Sometimes they lay in bed and listened to music, and several times had had impromptu dance parties on his bed, dancing in their underwear or naked.

He’d already taken her more times than he could easily count, and each time had been perfect beyond words. He had meant what he told her after the first time – he didn’t regret it at all. He knew on some level he should feel guilty or ashamed about their situation, about the fact that she was engaged to another man. But he’d begun to be unable to think of her as anything but _his_.

And now he lay holding her in their afterglow, marveling at how happy they both were. This was right, no matter what anyone else might think. They belonged like this, wrapped around each other, content and _together_.

“Dorian invited us over for dinner,” she murmured.

“Us? Not just you?”

“Well, he invited me but said he knew you’d come too so he may as well formally extend the invitation,” she giggled.

“Have you told him?” he asked.

“No, I haven’t told anyone,” she sighed. “It’s felt too wonderful but…fragile. I feel like telling anyone will ruin this perfect feeling of – _happiness_.”

He raised his head and pressed a kiss to her jaw. “I understand that,” he told her. He thought for a moment, and then decided he had to ask. “Is – is that why you haven’t told your parents, or tried to get out of the marriage?”

“I – I guess so,” she replied slowly. “I just didn’t want you to think that was why. And it’s – what will happen if I do? You’ll lose your job, and Maker only knows what will happen to me.”

They were both silent for a moment, thinking.

“I can always find another job,” he murmured against her warm skin.

“I know, I just…” she trailed off and thought before she continued. “I won’t marry him. I can’t. Not now, not after all of this. But I need to feel it out, I need to figure out how I can handle things.”

“Not just you,” he insisted. “You keep saying ‘I’ but it’s ‘we.’ I told you, Evelyn. We’ll find a way, we’re in this together.”

He looked up to see tears in her eyes. “You’re right,” she said softly. “We are.”

 

 

 

They stole a quick kiss in the car before they walked to the door of Dorian and Bull’s townhome, and Cullen kept his distance behind her like he always did in public. He looked up and down the back of her, admiring the way the dress she was wearing clung to the back side of her. The door opened and he quickly looked away, hoping he hadn’t just gotten caught ogling her.

“Ah there you are dear, finally – lovely as ever,” Dorian greeted her. “Actually, you’re positively glowing.” He was frowning as he placed kisses on her cheeks, taking in her appearance.

Cullen hoped he wasn’t visibly blushing, thinking he knew the reason she was glowing. He cleared his throat as he thought of the way they had fallen back on the sofa while they were putting on their shoes, making love instead of finishing getting ready, unable to resist one last time before they headed to dinner.

“Thank you Dorian,” was all Evelyn replied, and Cullen noticed the giggle she was trying to hide from her voice.

Her friend stepped aside to allow her in and then looked at Cullen. “Ah yes, the shadow. Come along, dear ser, we have cocktails and plenty of room at the table.”

Cullen followed them inside and heard trickles of laughter and voices coming from the living room. They made their way toward the noise, and when Evelyn entered the room several voices called greetings to her. Cullen took his place along the wall, feeling awkward and out of place as he scanned the group of faces that all turned to look at the newcomers. His heart began to race when he saw a familiar face in the crowd, and when he saw Evelyn run over to greet the golden-haired woman he raised his eyebrows as high as they could go.

“Maker look at you, you’re getting so round!” he heard Evelyn say.

“Twins,” the woman declared, gripping Evelyn by the arms.

“You’re joking!” Evelyn laughed.

“No, you should have seen our faces. Although I should have known, considering mother had Bethany and Carver,” the woman sighed.

She suddenly looked past Evelyn and caught sight of Cullen, and a look of total surprise came upon her face.

“Is that Knight-Captain Cullen, I see?” she called to him, and he cleared his throat and stepped forward hesitantly.

“Hello, Hawke,” he greeted her stiffly.

“You two know each other?” Evelyn asked, looking between the two.

“We met in Kirkwall,” Hawke said. “I never expected to see you in Ostwick, what brought you here?”

“New job,” he answered.

“Not guarding mage prisons anymore?” Hawke raised an eyebrow, sounding like she was teasing him.

“Obviously,” he quipped, trying to keep from smiling. “I see you’re not running around trying to start revolutions anymore either.” He let his eyes flick down to her round, pregnant belly.

“No, not at the moment,” she laughed. “Fen is handling that for now, he’s still trying to hunt down as many people in that slave network as he can.”

Cullen nodded but didn’t comment.

“I’m glad to see you got out of Kirkwall in one piece,” Hawke continued.

“You as well,” he agreed. He looked down at Evelyn to see her frowning slightly at him.

“You never told me you were in Kirkwall,” she said.

“How do you two know each other?” Hawke asked, looking between them and frowning.

“He’s – he’s my bodyguard,” Evelyn said, and he could tell she was trying to keep from giving anything away although she flushed slightly.

“Not the one meant to keep you in that Maker-awful contract, is he? Dorian was telling Fen and I earlier about that.” Hawke sounded taken aback. “Are you sure you’re not still a mage prison guard?”

“I’m sure,” Cullen gritted out. He didn’t like the parallel she was drawing, mostly because it felt eerily accurate for what he had been hired to do.

“Don’t worry, Marian, he’s – he’s not actually that bad,” Evelyn murmured, and she gave Cullen a secret smile, her eyes twinkling.

“Hm, let’s hope not,” Hawke said slowly. “And now if you’ll excuse me, I have to pee, because these babies are taking up way too much space.”

She nodded to both of them and walked away. Cullen looked down at Evelyn to see her still looking at him with a tiny frown.

“Kirkwall?” she asked softly.

“Yes,” he sighed. “Kinloch Hold, too.”

Her eyes widened. “Cullen, I’m – I don’t know what to say.”

He shrugged. “You don’t need to say anything Evelyn. I survived them both, and now I’m here – with you.”

Her eyes filled with tears and she looked around the room quickly. “Follow me,” she whispered.

His brows furrowed but he followed her from the room until she led him into a secluded corner of the currently empty dining room. She turned to face him and gripped his lapels, bringing his face down to hers.

“I’m glad you’re here with me, too,” she murmured against his lips. She began pressing kisses to him, and he only thought about telling her not to for a moment before he wrapped his arms around her and backed her into the nearby corner. He lost himself in the kiss, in the feeling of her lips twisting eagerly against his as if she was trying to tell him something.

A throat cleared lightly behind them, and they jumped apart.

Dorian was standing there holding a glass of wine, a smirk on his face as he raised it to take a sip. “What’s this, then?”

“Uhhh -” Cullen hesitated, looking to Evelyn.

She was staring at her friend as if shocked, and then she giggled. “Um, well, Dori, the thing is I – well,” she looked up at Cullen and smiled. “I think I rather like my shadow following me around.”

Dorian chuckled and took a few steps forward, looking over the pair in front of him. “How long has this been going on, Evie? And why in Thedas have you not used this to your advantage?”

Evelyn sighed. “The thing is, once it happened it’s been – it’s been too special to tell anyone, to use it that way. I don’t – I’m not sure how to handle it.”

Her friend shook his head as he drank more wine. “I could have helped you with that, it’s easy,” he scoffed. “You tell your parents you’re sleeping with the help and you watch as everyone in your and that _bastard’s_ families faint while you two ride off into the sunset, free to wed who you choose.”

Evelyn shook her head. “It’s not actually that simple.”

“I think it is, but do as you will,” Dorian sighed. “If I were you, I think any of the risks would be worth it. And you know, you have my support.”

Cullen frowned as the other man gave him a thorough once over as if evaluating him.

“Of everyone you could have chosen, Evie, I think you did an excellent job,” Dorian quipped, and then he turned and sauntered out of the room while chuckling.

Evelyn giggled as well and Cullen looked down at her, unsure of how he should feel.

“Should we be worried about that?” Cullen asked.

“Honestly, he won’t tell anyone but Bull,” she shrugged. “Although wouldn’t it actually help us if word got out? I think, maybe, when the time comes -”

“When will that be, Evelyn?” he interrupted, unable to stop himself. He wasn’t sure how he felt about their delay, about her hesitancy to get herself out of her arrangement. He knew things were precarious, but he wasn’t quite certain what was holding her back.

“Soon,” she whispered. “Please, just trust me.”

He sighed and pulled her to him. “Of course.”


	10. Day 88 & Day 89

What she had been waiting for had _finally_ happened.

Her father left for the weekend to attend to business, and as soon as she was certain he was on the road she snuck down to his study. She rifled through his filing cabinets, and checked the drawers of his desk. One of them was locked, and she pulled a bobby pin out of her pocket, bending it and focusing on how she was twisting it in the lock. It took her a minute, but she finally heard the lock spring free.

She smiled as she opened the drawer and saw the two large envelopes she was looking for. She grabbed both and shut the drawer once more, hurrying to the door and looking down the hall to make sure the coast was clear before she ran out of the study.

Cullen was just entering the front door, and his smile turned into a curious frown when he saw her hurrying into the foyer clutching the envelopes to her chest. She motioned him to follow her and mounted the stairs two at a time, and she heard his footsteps following her. She led the way to her room and shut the door behind them.

“Evelyn, what’s -”

“My father left for a business trip, and I was finally able to sneak in and get _these_ ,” she held out the envelopes for him to see.

He was still frowning. “And what are those?”

“The contract, but also – well, my father’s will,” she sighed. “I’ve been waiting for a chance to study these again.”

“He wouldn’t just show them to you if you asked?” he sounded baffled by the notion. “You signed the contract after all, didn’t you?”

“I signed the contract when I was eighteen and I haven’t seen it since,” she told him as she walked over to the window seat and took her place on it.

“Wait, when you were eighteen?” he followed and sat beside her. “I thought -”

“The arrangement was agreed upon when I came of age, but the marriage wasn’t going to take place until I was twenty-one,” she explained. “I didn’t really think anything of it for three years, I didn’t really accept that it would happen. And then, well – it started to when I turned twenty-one and I panicked.”

“Isn’t Grayson older than you? And your parents let him propose an arrangement when you turned eighteen?” Cullen was frowning, an odd look in his eyes.

She sighed. “Yes, I know. But he’s incredibly wealthy and – well, we have enough to live comfortably but not enough to pass on. That’s why I need my father’s will, too, I need to see -”

She trailed off as she began to flip through the contract. Her stomach was twisting and she felt positively nauseated, although she wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe she was still just feeling her nerves from breaking into her father’s study, but she felt like she was going to be sick. She swallowed hard and tried to steady herself, trying to swallow the wave of nausea that was threatening to ruin her focus.

She found the clause she was looking for in the contract and read through it, her brows knitting into a frown as she scanned the paragraphs.

“Damn it,” she muttered.

“What?” he leaned over and looked at what she was reading.

“It doesn’t void my contract,” she shook her head, incredulous. “All this time, I’ve been thinking that would be enough, that if we told someone, that I’d get out of it. I don’t believe it, that’s an…Maker, an optional clause. It just changes the amount of money – I was sold like a prize druffalo, I don’t _believe_ it.”

Cullen took the contract from her hands and looked it over, a blackened scowl coming over his face as he read. Evelyn stared at the other envelope in her hands, still fighting the nausea and hopelessness that was threatening to overwhelm her. With shaking hands she opened it and began to flip through the pages of her father’s will.

She sighed when she read through the provisions of her inheritance. “It’s contingent on my either marrying nobility or agreeing to an arrangement they’ve set out for me,” she explained. “And if I don’t, then I don’t get anything except the trust I receive at twenty-five. But the manor, if I don’t receive it after their deaths – it goes to the highest bidder. The Trevelyan estate would just be auctioned off…”

She trailed off and shook her head.

“I’m sorry, I’m not nobility,” Cullen said softly.

She smiled and gave a small chuckle. “You know, Dorian and I got drunk once and talked about marrying each other, just to make our families happy. We planned it all out, we even joked about what wedding colors we wanted, what story we would tell about how we fell madly in love, about how he proposed.”

“At this point that almost sounds like a believable option,” Cullen laughed, but the sound was hollow.

“In the end we decided we’d rather be true to ourselves,” Evelyn continued. “And so he accepted being disowned by his family, and he lives happily with his Qunari lover now. And I – I’m close to being stuck in a marriage I can’t get out of because I’m trying so hard not to hurt anyone.”

“Evelyn, your family – I understand that they’re your family. I understand that you love them, but,” he held up the contract that was still in his hand. “They’re treating you like an object, like a bargaining chip. They’re not thinking about _your_ future, they’re concerned with this vague notion of a future for the family. As if they don’t realize that does, actually, mean _you_.”

“I know,” she murmured softly. “I was raised to feel duty to the family, though, I mean…I care what happens to the Trevelyan’s as well. I think maybe I just realize that I’m a Trevelyan better than they do.”

Her stomach lurched again, and she suddenly stood and hurried to the bathroom and got sick in the sink.

“Evelyn,” she heard Cullen following her, sounding alarmed. She felt his hands brush her hair back off her face and hold it for her as she finished getting sick.

She took a deep breath and wiped her mouth. “I – I guess my nerves are finally catching up with me,” she sighed shakily. “I’ve felt horrible since yesterday, when I knew I’d have the chance to look these over. It’s like I knew the contract wouldn’t be void because -”

She shook her head and looked up at him, and he was staring at her with tender concern in his eyes.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“I think so,” she poured herself a glass of water and sipped it carefully. “Maybe I should lie down.”

Cullen guided her gently to her bed, one of his hands resting on her waist. He squeezed it lightly before he helped pull the sheets back and get her out of her clothes. She slid between the cool sheets and he tucked her in, pressing tender kisses to her forehead.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked.

“No, I’m fine, just – just tired,” she smiled at him. “You’re always so good to me.”

“Of course, I -” but he paused and just smiled down at her. “I’ll let you rest, and check on you later.”

“I’m sorry, this means our plans today -”

“We always have tomorrow,” he kissed her forehead one last time and stood, finally leaving her large chambers.

She laid thinking over the contract and will, her mind racing even though she felt positively exhausted. She wasn’t even sure how she could feel this exhausted, like she was bone-weary.

As she stared up at the canopy of her bed she suddenly got an idea, her stomach lurching again. She reached for her phone beside the bed and quickly began to dial the number she needed.

* * *

“Oh!” she cried, flinching slightly away from his fingers.

He raised his head from where it was buried between her legs and he frowned. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

“It wasn’t you, it just – never mind, I’m fine,” she gasped. She leaned her head back down on the pillow and closed her eyes. “Please, don’t stop – I’m close.”

He resumed his tongue’s movement against her slowly, as if moving like he didn’t want to hurt her. But when his hand resumed caressing her breast and his fingers pinched her nipple, she bit her lip and tried to ignore the pain. It wasn’t anything he was doing, and she tried to focus instead on the feeling of him licking her so eagerly.

In their weeks together she’d discovered that he had an enthusiasm for pleasing her that left her breathless, and sometimes it almost seemed like an obsession for him. She couldn’t get enough of him, and her heart was pounding in her chest as she thought about the discoveries of the day before.

 _I’m sorry, I’m not nobility_.

The implication of his words had hit her later, when she was lying in bed still trying to overcome the wave of nausea crashing over her.

Her father returned tomorrow, and she had convinced Cullen to spend the day with her in his bed, exploring each other and enjoying one another’s company.

She was down to twenty days.

But after tomorrow, it wouldn’t matter.

Her heart swelled with anxiety and something akin to joy, and the combination suddenly increased the pleasure that was radiating through her body from where he was running his tongue along her. She cried out, rolling her hips against his mouth as her powerful release overcame her.

When she had stilled he sat up and leaned over her. “I’ll never get tired of hearing that, of hearing you cry my name that way,” he whispered in her ear.

“I hope you never do,” she murmured, but her voice nearly cracked with emotion. He didn’t seem to notice as he hungrily devoured the skin of her neck and began to slide himself into her, eliciting groans from both of them.

Tomorrow would change everything, and she looked up at him moving above her as she thought hard, her stomach still tying in knots of anxiety.

She hoped it would be worth it, in the end.

She hoped it all worked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick exposition-y chapter, but the next is on the way and it'll be a big one. Bit of angst. Maybe something that's been requested again and again in the comments. ;-D
> 
> xx,  
> L


	11. Day 90

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting these chapters together so you're not upset with my cliffhangers (which are only due to time jumps). Enjoy some angst and some violence. <3
> 
> xx,  
> L

Cullen walked through the front door like always, nodding at Oliver. The butler gave him a curious frown and then nodded down the hall. Cullen raised an eyebrow at him, and the other man gestured toward Lord Trevelyan’s study.

His heart suddenly racing he hurried in the direction of the study, and he heard a man’s raised voice coming from within.

“I should have known you’d keep trying to get out of this, Evelyn,” he heard her father’s stern voice nearly shout. “But this? Lying about -”

“It’s not a lie, Papa,” Evelyn’s voice answered. She sounded resolute, her tone even.

Cullen hesitated outside the door, unsure if he should enter or not. He didn’t really have a place in the room, but he was beginning to think that Evelyn was telling her father about them and he wanted to be at her side to do it.

Why hadn’t she told him she was going to? Why hadn’t she asked him to be with her to do it? They’d said, again and again for weeks that they were in this together. And now she was facing this on her own. It wasn’t right.

“How can I believe you after all of the other stunts you pulled? The kiss with Dorian, the partying, the _drugs_ -”

“You have three tests sitting on your desk in front of you, what further proof do you need that I’m telling the truth?”

Cullen frowned as he listened.

“For all I know you paid someone for these, or had your friend – what’s her name, Mary? For all I know these are hers.”

“They’re not,” Evelyn sighed. “They’re mine.”

“And – how long? And who? I notice you haven’t told me that,” her father sounded frustrated, and still disbelieving.

“Over a month, and the who – that’s personal,” Evelyn answered, but Cullen noticed her voice faltered slightly.

“Does that mean you don’t even know? Did you slip away from your guard and just – what, just let someone have you in the bathroom? Were you that desperate to get out of this -”

“It’s not like that,” she interrupted. “It’s someone I care about.”

“And how did this even happen? Unless Cullen has lied to me and you’ve been sneaking away from him, or -”

But suddenly the lord’s voice cut off and for a long moment there was deafening silence.

“ _No_ ,” he groaned. “Surely not, you can’t possibly -”

“No, I -”

“Evelyn your face says it all!” her father roared. “Where is he, I’m going to wring his neck -”

The door was wrenched open suddenly and Cullen came face to face with the livid lord of the manor.

“Get in here,” Lord Trevelyan ordered with a shout, standing back and pointing into the room.

Cullen walked past him, his heart still racing. He looked at Evelyn sitting in the chair before the desk, and she was turned around watching him enter the room. Her face was pale, and she almost looked faint and actually _scared_ to see him. The expression on her face tugged at his heartstrings, and he couldn’t decipher why she would be upset to see him.

And then his eyes fell on the desk before him and he saw three white sticks lying on it.

Three white sticks that had small digital faces on them, each one of them reading ‘ _pregnant_.’

Cullen sank into the other chair opposite the desk, unable to tear his gaze away from the sight of the pregnancy tests.

Lord Trevelyan made his way around the desk and took his seat behind it, glaring between Cullen and the pregnancy tests as he did. “Do you care to explain?”

For a long moment, Cullen still just simply stared at the objects on the desk, his heart pounding and his mouth going dry. He glanced sideways at Evelyn, and noticed the tears that were glistening in her eyes, the way her lip trembled ever so slightly.

She still looked pale and faint, and like she was terrified.

“I – I’m sorry, my lord, it -” Cullen began, but he trailed off when he saw Evelyn close her eyes as if pained.

“It was me, Papa,” she said softly, and both men stared at her. “I flirted with him, I seduced him. I – I convinced him to begin a relationship with me.”

Cullen’s heart clenched. _What was she saying?_

“Evelyn, are you saying that you -” her father began slowly, and she nodded her head.

“I was trying to void the contract,” she whispered.

His insides were turning to lead, hot and heavy. His stomach twisted into knots and his hands began to shake. Surely not, she couldn’t mean it. She couldn’t…

“Evelyn,” he said softly, but she pressed her lips together and shook her head as she cried.

“It wasn’t his fault, Papa,” she continued. “Please, just release him from your service, tell the agency he did a good job. Don’t ruin him over my desperate mistake.”

Cullen slouched forward and buried his face in his hands. He felt like an idiot, and his heart was splitting in two.

“And in the meantime what do I do about you? Pregnant with a commoner’s child, no longer able to marry – Evelyn, we needed that money, our whole family -”

“I am your family,” Evelyn said and she opened her eyes and glared at her father. “It’s like you’ve forgotten that, though.”

She suddenly stood up and took a deep breath, looking formidable as she regarded her father with something like loathing. “Tell Grayson and his family whatever you like when they get here. I’m not marrying him. And as for the child – well, I’ll figure something out.”

She turned and walked to the door, wrenching it open and quickly disappearing through it.

For a moment Cullen sat in silence, not looking at her father. He finally stood and raced to the door, running down the hall to try to catch up to Evelyn. Oliver was standing in the foyer, and he pointed up the stairs when Cullen met his gaze.

Cullen tore up the stairs and headed to her room, his heart screaming in his chest.

She was crying in the middle of her sitting room, her whole body heaving.

“Evelyn, I -”

“Oh, go away,” she cried desperately, her fingers pulling at her hair.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he gritted out, walking toward her and gripping her by her arms to spin her to face him. “Why in Andraste’s name didn’t you tell me that you’re pregnant with my child?”

She shook her head, a pained look coming across her face. She opened and closed her mouth several times to answer but she still looked scared and positively tormented by something.

“I’m not,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. She closed her eyes and hung her head.

“What?” he asked, shocked. “Is it – is it someone else’s?”

She shook her head and gave a hollow chuckle. “Yes, Fenris and Marian’s.”

He released her shoulders and stepped back. “So he was right, you got her to -”

“I was desperate, Cullen,” she murmured.

“And so you – you meant it, you seduced me, you let me think -” his voice cracked and he stared at her. A tangle of emotions surged through him until his vision felt like it was blurring, almost blackening at the edges.

She barely nodded her head.

He ran his hands into his hair and pulled it, feeling like a madman as he began to pace, trying to work through how he felt.

“I can’t believe you,” he finally gritted out, and glared at her.

Suddenly, he couldn’t see the sweet young woman he had begun to love so desperately. He saw the manipulative, wild woman he’d been hired to guard.

Her face was unmoving like marble, and yet he almost thought he could see cracks in the surface, like she wanted to cry again or say something to him.

“You let me fall in love with you,” he accused hollowly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen,” she answered, but her voice was shaking.

He stared at her like she was a stranger, like he had no idea who she was.

“At least you got what you wanted,” he sneered. “I hope it was worth it.”

He turned and marched from the room without looking back.

If he had thought to go back instead of closing the door, he would have seen her collapse on the floor, destroyed by her sobs as she clutched a hand to her lower belly.

But he didn’t.

Instead he tore through the mansion, running down the stairs and almost toppling head first in his desperate haste to escape. He heard shouts from the hallway to his left and turned to see Grayson charging across the foyer at him.

“You Fereldan dog, you son of a mabari _bitch_ -” he was shouting.

Cullen hated the man more than he’d ever hated anyone. He hated the desperate situation he’d trapped Evelyn in, a situation so desperate she had toyed with his heart and used him. He blamed her, but he blamed Grayson more.

He took a few steps toward the other man and immediately pulled his arm back, releasing a powerful swing as soon as he was within range. His fist made painful contact with Grayson’s nose, and the man cried out in surprise and agony.

Cullen’s fist throbbed with pain but he pulled his arm back again and slammed his fist into the smaller man’s belly.

And again.

He couldn’t stop himself, so furious with the situation, so broken and torn up by the confession Evelyn had made that he unleashed all of his fury on the man who was at the root of it all.

“STOP!” he heard someone shouting, and he felt two sets of hands trying to restrain him, trying to pull him away from the man whose shirt he was holding as he readied another punch.

They managed to pull him away and he glowered at the blubbering, bleeding man before him.

“Stop, _stop_ ,” Lord Trevelyan was imploring him as he and Oliver held him back.

“I want him arrested, I want him – I want him jailed,” Grayson whined, clutching his broken nose.

“We can deal with this -” Lord Trevelyan began.

“Deal with it? Like you dealt with your slut of a daughter? Couldn’t even stop her from fucking the help!” Grayson spat.

Lord Trevelyan’s grip on Cullen’s arm loosened suddenly, and the older man stepped forward and grabbed Grayson by the front of his shirt. “Don’t you dare talk about my daughter like that!” he growled. “I knew – I knew you were a mistake, I never should have accepted your offer. You preyed on my desperation just so that you could _have_ her, like she was something to be owned.”

“And you sold her like she was,” Grayson sneered. “You’re just as much a part of that as I was.”

For a moment Evelyn’s father simply stared down at Grayson with disgust. “Get out my house, and don’t ever come back,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, and he shoved Grayson away from him.

Grayson stumbled and looked at the three men before him, looking like he wanted to protest. He saw that Oliver was still having to restrain Cullen, though, and he tried to straighten as best as he could and walked out with what little dignity he had left. Which, frankly, was none.

Oliver finally released Cullen, and Lord Trevelyan turned to face him, all three of them breathing heavily.

“I’m sorry, Cullen,” Lord Trevelyan said after several moments of silence. “I’m sorry for everything that’s happened to you while you worked here, for the way Evie…I’ll write you a recommendation. Anything you need.”

“You think you can, what, make this better by buying me off?” Cullen straightened his suit jacket and shook his head. “I don’t need your help, and I wouldn’t accept it even if I did.”

Cullen pushed past the other man and headed for the door. He hesitated and turned back. “The person you should apologize to is Evelyn.”

And with that, he left the manor, his mind reeling, his fist throbbing, and his heart in pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my mind, Oliver the Butler just _knows everything_


	12. Three Months Later

Cullen turned off the engine in front of the townhouse and shook his head. He should have known from the address, but she had only ever given him directions and not the actual address.

He sighed and seriously considered leaving, even if he’d actually been sent here by the agency for a job.

As he sat considering, the door opened and Dorian stepped out of the front door, holding a glass of red wine. He waved at Cullen and gestured for him to get out of the car.

Cullen heaved a sigh and opened his door, getting out and looking around with a scowl.

“Ah, good, I was hoping the agency wouldn’t take long to answer my request,” Dorian said, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “I was hoping they’d send someone a bit more clean-cut though, you certainly look a little ragged.”

Cullen absently ran a hand over his thick beard as he approached the other man. “Do you actually need a guard, or did you just put in a request to get me here?”

He was irritated, and his heart was pounding. He tried to hide his trepidation, he tried to hide the excitement he didn’t want to feel that maybe _she_ was there.

“Oh, yes, right – I need a guard, yes,” Dorian waved his hand airily. “Why don’t you come inside and I’ll tell you about it.”

Cullen frowned, not trusting the other man’s words. “Listen, if she’s in there and this was just a ruse to get me here -”

“No, no, don’t worry,” Dorian rushed to assure him. “Just follow me.”

Cullen ground his teeth together and slowly followed the man into the house, shoving his hands in his pockets as he went. He’d known the request to the agency had sounded too specific, but he’d been desperate for the work. He kept losing job after job, unable to focus like he used to, unable to keep from snapping at people when he was irritated.

He followed Dorian down the hall into the living room, and saw Bull and a few other people sitting in the room. He didn’t recognize any of them.

“Dorian -” he began, annoyed.

“Oh, sorry,” Dorian laughed, and gestured to the people in the room. “Bull’s band of misfits. I wasn’t lying, there really have been threats against me, and I do have need of guards. But luckily my amatus is the head of a successful mercenary band, so I don’t need to hire out.”

Cullen shook his head and raised his eyes to the ceiling, as if praying for relief from this situation. “Then why in Andraste’s name am I here?” he gritted out.

“I’ve resisted doing anything for three months. But I caught sight of you the other day guarding that puny little tabloid princess and saw that you’re just as much of a mess as my beloved friend is,” Dorian sighed. He poured himself some more wine and gestured wordlessly at the bar, but Cullen shook his head no. He just wanted to get out of there as fast as he could, he didn’t want to hear about _her_.

“I’m doing fine,” Cullen gritted out.

Dorian laughed and Bull joined in from where he sat on the sofa. “No, you’re not,” the Qunari chimed in.

Cullen ignored him and ran his hand over his beard again. “Did you really bring me here to try to get me to, what – talk to her? Chase her down? What do you expect from me? She used me, she lied to me -”

“Yes, she did lie,” Dorian interrupted and nodded, pursing his lips. “Although, not like you thought -”

Cullen shook his head, his jaw clenching tightly. “I don’t have time for this, I need actual jobs that can pay my rent. Thank you for wasting my time, Dorian.”

He turned to leave, muttering curses under his breath.

“She’s beginning to round out quite nicely, wouldn’t you say, Bull?” Dorian said, loudly and pointedly enough that Cullen stopped in his tracks.

“She is, kadahn. Then again she was always such a tiny little thing, it was always going to be obvious on her,” Bull agreed casually.

Cullen’s blood ran cold and he felt the color drain from his face. For a moment he couldn’t think straight as he absorbed their words. He turned slowly and looked at one and then the other, and noticed they both had small smirks on their faces.

“What are you saying?” he asked, his voice low.

“She did lie to you, it’s true,” Dorian explained. “I tried to ask her why, when she was here that night, crying over the loss of you. All she said was that she didn’t want you to feel forced into it. That she knew you’d insist on doing the right thing, but considering the arrangement she’d been trying to get out of, she knew what being forced into that decision felt like.”

Cullen’s stomach tied into knots and he staggered to the nearest chair and collapsed into it, staring unseeing at the floor. After a moment footsteps approached him and a tanned hand wearing several rings held a glass of amber colored liquid out to him.

“Here, this will help,” Dorian said.

Cullen accepted the glass and drained it in one gulp, feeling the whiskey burning down his throat as he swallowed.

“You must be a very _virile_ man, she said it happened on the very first try,” Dorian teased lightly.

He closed his eyes and thought back to it, to the first time he was inside her in the backseat of the car, lost in the feeling of moving within her. He remembered now, they’d finished at the same moment. He’d been so amazed at the feeling of her falling apart around him that his mind had gone blank. He hadn’t even thought of pulling himself from her, all he’d wanted was to be as deep within her as he could be. He’d never given it a second thought.

“She’s – she really is -”

“Yes, about four months now,” Dorian answered. “I’ve been telling her for the last three months to tell you, but she’s hurting, and she thinks you hate her.”

Cullen shook his head. He’d tried as hard as he could to hate her, but he couldn’t manage it. Every time he tried he thought of the sweet look in her eyes when she looked up at him from where she lay in his arms. He thought of the times she had giggled and pulled him up on the bed to dance with her to the music they were listening to, not caring that he couldn’t dance. He thought of the way she whispered his name to him and moaned in the throes of passion.

Try as he might not to, he loved her still.

“Where is she?” he asked.

“She got a place of her own after staying here for a while,” Dorian told him. “She’s been teaching music.”

“What about her parents?” Cullen looked up, frowning.

“She’s – working on learning to forgive them,” Dorian pursed his lips.

“Do they know she’s still pregnant, or that she actually is?”

“I think so, but I don’t know for certain,” Dorian shrugged. “These days she doesn’t talk much, and when she does it’s about you.”

Cullen’s heart ached, thinking about the pain she must be feeling.

“Tell me – tell me where she is, give me her address,” Cullen pushed himself to his feet and held his glass out. “I have to see her.”

Dorian’s face broke into a wide smile. “I was hoping you’d say that. It wasn’t right, the way that she didn’t give you a choice and decided she had to have that baby on her own. Figured I’d give you both a helpful poke.”

The other man took his empty glass and stared at him for a moment, his brows furrowed in deep thought.

“One thing, though, before I tell you where to find her.”

“What?”

“Do you love her, even if she wasn’t carrying your child?” Dorian’s eyes were piercing as he watched Cullen eagerly for his answer.

“Yes, I do,” Cullen answered, nodding to emphasize his words.

“Oh good, then,” Dorian chuckled. “Here.”

He passed Cullen a slip of paper with an address on it. Cullen took it and immediately raced out of the room, but then hurried back in. “Thank you, Dorian,” he said breathlessly, and then tore out of the room again.

 

* * *

 

Evelyn closed the door behind the last of her students for the day and looked around her small apartment. The student had snapped one of the strings of her guitar, and she mused bitterly that she was going to have to replace it, and it was going to be expensive.

She shook her head and walked to the kitchen in search of some food, her stomach grumbling to remind her that she had more than just herself to feed. Nothing in the kitchen looked good, though, and while she knew she needed to eat the very idea of food made her feel queasy. She found her stash of cookies and opened the jar, grabbing a few and a glass of milk before she went to sit on her small loveseat.

Cullen had a sweet tooth, she remembered, and had often bought her cookies and eaten them with her when they were at his apartment. It only made sense that now his baby growing inside her only wanted the same cookies, until they were the only food she could consistently keep down.

She was a few weeks away from finding out the gender, and while she’d thought at first that she didn’t care, she found herself wishing for a little boy. A little boy with golden curls and amber eyes, who would run and play in the mud and get scraped up from climbing trees.

She sighed as she thought about it, and when she closed her eyes she pictured the scar he’d had at the corner of his mouth, acquired in his days as a Templar at Kirkwall. She remembered the way she used to run her tongue over it, the kisses she pressed to it. The way it tugged up with his grin when he looked at her lying beneath him.

She dunked her cookie into the milk and scowled, hating how much she tortured herself with bittersweet memories. She wanted to blame it on the pregnancy, on the hormones coursing through her. But she knew it wasn’t that, she knew it was simply longing.

And heartbreak.

Dorian and Marian checked on her constantly, and each of them had the same worried look on their faces when they saw her. Both tried to convince her to call him, to see him. To tell him the truth.

She didn’t want to be his burden, she didn’t want to be his responsibility. She didn’t want to be chosen like a duty, like she’d almost had to do for her family. Of everything she had done in the last year as she tried to get away from Grayson, though, nothing compared to what she’d done to Cullen.

She still remembered the look on his face as she told her lie, as she convinced him she had used him.

She felt tears well in her eyes and sighed, dunking her cookie more forcefully into her milk in her aggravation. Even the Fade taunted her with these memories, until she was consumed with shame and guilt for how she had treated him.

She hated herself, and hated how bitter she was. At this rate, her baby was going to come out melancholy and stress-eat sweets just like she did. She needed to get herself together, she needed to remember that she had more than herself to think about.

She slid a hand over her rounding tummy and sighed as she remembered how it had happened. She wasn’t even sure why she hadn’t thought to take precautions, or why she’d never thought twice about the way that he’d finished within her that first time. She figured she’d been naïve, thinking that there was no way it could happen so easily the very first time.

How wrong she’d been.

She grinned a little to herself, thinking back to how confidently he’d taken her, like he’d decided she was worth any risk. She recalled the look in his eyes, the way he’d touched and kissed her.

It made her heart ache and between her legs throb. She’d been even more easily aroused now that she was pregnant, and it made her nights even lonelier, her mornings frustrating as she woke up from dreams of days they had spent making love.

She missed him. She’d never expected to fall in love with him so quickly, so deeply. But she had.

An insistent knocking snapped her out of her reverie, making her jump and almost slosh milk all over herself. Her door was positively rattling at the force of the knocking, and her heart started pounding. She set the milk and cookies down and cautiously approached the door. She didn’t live in the safest neighborhood, but she always had her magic to defend herself. She held one hand ready, just in case she needed to summon her lightning to herself quickly. She cursed the fact that she hadn’t let Bull install the peephole he kept insisting on for her door.

Taking a deep breath she unlocked the door and swung it open.

Her heart jumped into her throat, pounding so intensely she thought for certain it would be visible under her skin.

She was speechless.

Cullen was staring at her, and he straightened from where he’d had one arm resting on the doorframe as he pounded on her door. He held her gaze for a moment and then his eyes dropped to her stomach and widened.

He looked like a wreck. He had dark circles around his eyes, like he didn’t sleep any more, and his golden stubble had turned into a full beard. His hair was a little longer, and if he hadn’t been in a crisp, clean suit, she almost would have thought he’d wandered in off the streets.

He took a step toward her and she backed away, unsure of what he wanted or why he was there. He took another step and she mirrored his action, and once they were inside the apartment he closed the door behind them. He was still staring at her round belly, his eyes occasionally flicking up to hers. After several moments of silence he dropped to his knees before her and placed his hands on her belly, feeling it with his fingers before he pressed his forehead against it.

“C-Cullen,” she finally whispered, her voice cracking. “I – I can explain, I can -”

“Why didn’t you tell me, Evelyn?” he murmured against her round stomach.

Before she could answer, she felt a strange sensation in her lower belly and gasped, instinctively placing a hand over it. Cullen sat back and stared at her, concern all over his face.

“Are you all right? Evelyn, is something wrong?” he stood quickly and placed a hand on her back, walking her over to the loveseat.

“I – I don’t know, it was…like a flutter, I can’t describe it,” she kept her hand on her belly and frowned. She suddenly realized what had happened, and she turned her curious frown up to his face. It was the first time it had happened, but she thought she knew why. “Cullen, I think I felt him move.”

“Him?” his eyes widened and he sank onto the seat next to her.

“Oh, I, I don’t know,” she giggled, almost embarrassed. “It’s too early to tell but I’ve kind of been hoping – I mean, thinking it’s a boy.”

She looked up to see a pained yet almost happy look in his eyes. He was looking over her face like he was drinking it in, and he looked back at her stomach as he placed his hand over hers.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, and she felt tears spill down her cheeks. “I – I didn’t expect it to happen, and I -”

“Why did you lie?” he furrowed his brows and looked up at her. She could see the torment he’d been in for three months reflected in his eyes, the same look he’d had that day now amplified by the passage of time.

“You weren’t supposed to walk in when I was telling my father,” she sighed. “I was trying to just tell him about the pregnancy without telling him who the father was. I’d only just found out, and I wanted to tell you, but – I wanted to tell you after I was free of the arrangement. When we could decide what it meant for us without worrying about that too.”

“You still could have told me,” he shook his head, looking at her incredulously.

“I felt like I was forcing you, with my father knowing who the father was – he would have insisted you marry me, he would have trapped you the same way I was nearly trapped by Grayson,” she wiped absently at a tear. “I couldn’t do that to you.”

“That’s bullshit, Evelyn,” he said softly.

She raised her eyes, surprised. He swore so rarely, it was always an odd moment to hear it. She knew it meant he was feeling everything intensely.

“That’s – that’s the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard,” he declared. “What’s the real reason?”

She opened and closed her mouth a few times before she finally looked up at him. “I wanted to know you really loved me, and not just felt like I was a duty. Everything happened so fast, and then I got pregnant, the very first time, I just…”

She trailed off and lowered her gaze, but she was met by the sight of their hands resting on her rounding belly.

“I’ve loved you since I first saw you,” he murmured, and she realized he was leaning closer to her. “It just took me a while to see it. And even after that day, even after you lied and pushed me away – Evelyn, I’ve been a mess thinking about you. I can’t stop loving you, no matter how hard I’ve tried.”

The fluttering feeling she’d experienced when he had his hands first on her belly happened again, and she closed her eyes. Tears slid down her cheeks, wet and hot, and he leaned forward and gently kissed them away.

“Do you love me?” he asked, and his breath against her skin sent shivers down her spine.

“Yes, Cullen,” she answered softly. “More than I ever thought I’d love anyone.”

His arms were suddenly around her, one under her knees as he pulled her off the loveseat and into his embrace. He turned and looked around, and she pointed the way to the bedroom. He took long, confident strides through the doorway and placed her gingerly on the bed.

He began to strip out of his suit, and for a moment she simply watched him, admiring the way his muscles flexed while he removed his shirt. Then she kicked off her shoes and began to pull off the sweater and leggings she was wearing.

When they were both naked they stared at each other for a moment, and she noticed his eyes lingering on her stomach. He knelt beside the bed and pulled her toward him, and he lowered his mouth and moved it hungrily down her neck and her chest. She cried out as he squeezed her full breasts, which were plump and oversensitive because of her pregnant state.

“Cullen, kiss me,” she moaned, but he gave her a smirk and slid his tongue down her tight, swollen belly.

He pulled her legs apart and took his place between them like he belonged, like it hadn’t been months since the last time they were together. His beard and breath tickled her, and she gave a giggle that turned quickly into a moan as he slid his tongue against her. Her eyes fluttered shut but she tried to keep them open, lifting her head and staring down at him, wanting to watch the sight of him between her legs, licking her once more.

He’d barely begun before she was gasping, moaning his name and feeling on edge. It was pure heaven, and she cried his name as she came easily, all of her pent up desire and hormones pushing her over the edge almost instantaneously. He almost looked surprised as she rolled her hips against him, and when he pulled away and wiped his face he was frowning at her slightly.

“I’ve missed you,” she told him breathlessly.

He chuckled. “Apparently.”

He stretched himself over her, and she could tell he was holding himself above her, gently, trying not to put pressure on her. He kissed her finally, their lips slanting and devouring each other, the taste of her on his tongue and his beard scratching her chin and nose. He used a hand and guided himself to her, and he locked eyes with her as he thrust in slowly. They both cried out, and he threw his head back on his shoulders as he pushed all the way in to the hilt.

“Evelyn – Maker, you’re still so tight,” he gasped. “I’ve missed this – I’ve dreamt of this, of being inside you again.”

“Me too,” she whimpered, and she gripped his hips, trying to encourage him to start moving. “Cullen – take me, take me please.”

He started thrusting and she could tell he was moving carefully, slowly and tenderly like he was worried he might hurt the baby inside her. His slow pace meant she felt every inch of him, again and again as he pushed into her and withdrew, and she sobbed and moaned at every sensation.

Their lovemaking had always been electric, but this feeling, their reunion, all of the emotion behind it – it was so intense that she felt tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes. The feeling built up within her as he moved above her, and she felt herself fluttering around him as she got close.

He could tell, and he looked into her face, a curious expression on his face as he watched her crying and smiling at the sensation of him within her again.

“Marry me,” he said abruptly, and her eyes flew wide so she could stare up at him. “Please, Evelyn, be my wife – marry me.”

“I – Cul-Cullen,” she gasped, and she tried to answer but she was falling apart, an incoherent cry that ended with a hiss and almost sounded like “ _yes_ ” pouring from her lips.

He frowned sharply and thrust a few more times, still feeling the shockwave of her release around him as he moaned and found his own. He held himself within her, thrusting deeply as he filled her with thick, hot spurts, his seed pooling within her.

He took a few deep breaths and then pulled himself from her, collapsing onto the bed and pulling her to him. He snuggled her against his chest and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly to him.

“Marry me,” he repeated. “I want you, but I – I want it to be your choice. We don’t have to get married but, well – I’d like to.”

“Yes, Cullen,” she answered softly. “I want to.”

She raised her face and he lowered his, meeting her lips in a gentle kiss of promise. She felt another fluttering in her stomach, and she smiled to herself. It was like his baby knew, like it could tell how happy she was again. Like it knew its father was there, and would remain there forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not quite done, still a few loose ends <3


	13. Epilogue

“You’re positively glowing,” he told her.

She giggled and shook her head, a flush spreading from her cheeks to her neck. “No, I’m positively _fat_.”

He laughed, rubbing his hand over her stomach. “You’re not, you’re pregnant.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “You know what I mean. I’m only four months and I already feel huge.”

He ran his mouth along her chin, sliding his tongue down the column of her throat. “You’re beautiful,” he said. “You’re the sight I’ve been longing for for months, like a drink of cool water on a hot day. You’re an oasis, love, and I’m ready to drink you in.”

“Oh, Cullen,” she sighed, closing her eyes as she soaked up his murmured words of love.

“I’m so happy to have you back, Evelyn,” he breathed against her ear. “I missed you more than words can ever express, though I’ll try my best to make sure you know.”

She giggled, trying to fight the tears threatening to escape her eyes. “I can tell, you look like a mad man,” she teased lightly, trying to break the intense emotion she was feeling. “Although I think I like the beard.”

He chuckled and rubbed his cheek against hers, letting the soft hair on his face tickle her. “I can keep it if you like,” he said. “I just – stopped thinking about it. I -”

“You stopped taking care of yourself,” she murmured. “I’m so sorry, love.”

He shook his head and continued rubbing his cheek and his lips against her cheek and neck, and she moaned softly.

“How did you find me?” she furrowed her brows, realizing she hadn’t asked.

“Dorian sent a request to the agency,” he chuckled.

She groaned and shook her head before she giggled as well. “I should have known he’d take it upon himself to call you.”

“I’m eternally grateful that he did,” he told her. “We should make him the godfather, don’t you think?”

She smiled. “I think he’d like that.”

Cullen propped himself on his elbow and stared down at her, his other hand still resting on her stomach. “What happened with your parents after I left?” the look in his eyes was hesitant, he looked concerned.

“I – well, I left,” she shrugged. “I packed a bag and I went to Dorian and Bull’s place, and stayed with them.”

“Do they – do your parents know?” he frowned.

“Yes, they do,” she nodded. “I never lied to them, I told them I was going to handle it on my own. My father tried to get me to stop, he – he wanted to call you back. He wanted to work something out. I told him no.”

Cullen shook his head. “Do they know you lied to me?”

“I think he suspected,” she sighed. “He seemed bothered by your reaction, like he knew something was wrong.”

“Have you spoken with them?” he asked, and he watched as her lips tightened and she blinked her eyes rapidly.

“I – no, I haven’t,” she answered softly. “Not really.”

He sighed. “Evelyn, I think – I think you should. I think we should together. They’re your family, we should try to include them in this.”

She pursed her lips, thinking. “I’ll consider it,” she agreed slowly. “But only if you’ll be there with me.”

“Of course I will be,” he told her, and he rained kisses on her face and neck while she giggled, his beard tickling her with his movements. “You’ll never be alone again, Evelyn. I love you, and I’m finally where I should be – with you, always. I’m home.”

 

* * *

 

 She interlaced her fingers with Cullen’s, squeezing his hand tightly for support. He returned her pressure and gave her a crooked grin, his eyes full of understanding. She took a steadying breath, glancing around the small café they were sitting in, and as she did her heart began beating faster. She saw her parents speaking with the hostess, and Cullen must have seen them too because he squeezed her hand again, reassuringly.

They stood as her parents approached, and she noticed that both of their gazes immediately went to her round belly. She was even bigger now, since it had taken Cullen a full month to convince her to reach out to her family.

“Evie, you -” her father faltered, taking in the sight of his radiantly pregnant daughter. “You look well, you look beautiful.”

Her mother’s eyes were filling with tears, and after several moments’ hesitation, she rushed around the table and wrapped her arms around Evelyn’s shoulders.

Evelyn sighed and patted her mother on the back, trying to fight the lump of emotion in her throat. Her mother pulled away and wiped at her cheeks before returning to her side of the table.

Cullen cleared his throat, and for a moment he and Lord Trevelyan stared at each other, before they finally reached their hands out to each other.

“It’s good to see you, Cullen,” her father greeted, his tone only slightly stilted.

Cullen nodded. “You as well, my lord.”

“Please, call me Bertram,” her father told him, and Evelyn raised her eyebrows, slightly surprised.

She watched as Cullen greeted her mother, as she asked him to call her Ophelia instead of Lady Trevelyan. Things were already going far differently than she had prepared herself for them to.

They all took their seats and for a moment there was awkward silence.

Her father reached into his suit jacket and pulled out folded papers, which he passed to Evelyn with a small smile.

“This isn’t bribery, but – I’d like for you to look at these, before – before we do anything else,” he told her, sounding anxious.

Evelyn frowned and took the papers, unfolding and skimming them, flipping through the pages as her eyebrows rose higher and higher on her forehead. “You – you amended the will?”

She raised her gaze to her father’s, and saw him nodding. “Yes, it was antiquated – about time the Trevelyan inheritance was updated.”

Evelyn’s lips parted but she found herself unable to speak. She passed the papers to Cullen so that he could look them over. She saw his eyebrows raise as well, his reaction similar to hers.

“We’re sorry, Evie,” her father said, and her mother nodded emphatically and reached a hand out to Evelyn’s. “We’re sorrier than we can express.”

Evelyn tightened her lips and blinked her eyelashes rapidly, trying not to cry. “It’s – well, it’s not all right, but…” she sighed. “I understand, and I forgive you.”

“No doubt in part because of Cullen,” her father said, and she noticed he was eyeing where she and Cullen were holding hands on the table.

“He may have helped convince me,” she gave a small smile. “We have some news, as well. I – well, I’m sorry that we didn’t wait but, um, we’re – we’re married.”

She watched her parents’ faces apprehensively, worried at their reaction. She couldn’t tell if she was more worried that they hadn’t been told first or that they hadn’t been there when it happened. But honestly, no one had been there. They’d snuck off one day in the middle of the afternoon, deciding they couldn’t wait any longer, deciding they didn’t want a big ceremony. They’d only just begun to tell people, having kept it private, enjoying their time to savor it by themselves before they let people in on the secret.

To her surprise, both of her parents smiled and they shared a happy look and began laughing.

“Good,” her father said.

“Oh Evie, we’re so happy for you.”

Evelyn stared at them for a moment, soaking in their happy, eager smiles.

“There’s – there’s one other thing,” Evelyn looked up at Cullen, and he gave her a crooked grin and squeezed her hand.

They were both still trying to grasp the next news, both still torn between anxiety and joy.

“Yes, Evie?” her father asked.

“I’m – well, we’re having twins,” she finally said. “A boy and a girl.”

Her parents looked shocked, but then began laughing. They stood again to hug both Cullen and Evelyn, her father clapping Cullen on the shoulder as he shook his hand with a dazed look on his face.

“Now I’m really glad I updated the will,” her father chuckled. “You’ll need all the space you can get. And besides, the manor has been lonely. It could use the presence of children, of _family_ once more.”

“In fact,” Evelyn’s mother began, and she looked at Evelyn’s father. He nodded for her to continue. “We’ve been talking about passing it on a little early. My charity work always has me traveling, and your father has always wanted to be able to accompany me. We’d – we were thinking it might be time for the next generation to take it over.”

Her father nodded. “It’s part of why we changed the will. We’d like to see more of Thedas, now that we have time to.”

Evelyn and Cullen’s jaws dropped. “Are – are you sure?” Evelyn asked, entirely flabbergasted.

“Yes, we are,” her father nodded. “I think you and Cullen will be quite happy there, and that way you’ll have more room for your twins.”

Evelyn and Cullen shared a look, both still stunned.

She hadn’t seen any of this coming, but all of it made her heart soar. She had her family back, she had the love of her life. She had a family of her own on the way, and now she had the means to carry on the Trevelyan name like she’d always wanted to.

By the path that she chose for herself.

And now she could walk that path with Cullen by her side, with nothing standing in their way.

 

* * *

 

“Da! Da!” he heard a voice squealing, and he tried to stifle his laughter, trying not to give away his position.

“Found yoo!” the voice cried again, and Cullen turned to see his son jumping up and down excitedly, pointing at him. He took a few steps forward and scooped him into his arms, deep chuckles reverberating in his chest as he turned his son upside down and swung him playfully. Shrieks and giggles accompanied the action, and Cullen tightened his grip on the squirming toddler.

“Let’s go find your mother and sister, Bron,” he said. He had his son over his shoulder, and he took long strides through the garden, listening carefully.

He felt fairly certain he heard giggles nearby, but they didn’t sound like Cordelia’s shrill, high-pitched ones. He stooped and set Bron down, and whispered, “Check behind those bushes.”

Bron tottered forward, his golden curls tousled from how his father had had him over his shoulder.

“Mama!” the young boy cried, jumping excitedly again. He looked back at Cullen and gestured wildly. “Da! I found Mama!”

Evelyn hurried from behind the bushes and scooped up the young boy, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Good job!” she praised. “Now go find your sister, Bron.”

She set him down and walked over to Cullen, taking his hand as they leisurely followed their young son as he ran off through the gardens to find his sister.

“They’re getting so big,” Cullen sighed, and he squeezed her hand with his fingers. “It’s almost time to start thinking about another, wouldn’t you say?”

Evelyn giggled, and he looked sidelong at her. She had a mischievous look in her eyes. “About that,” she began slowly, and she paused and bit her lip to stifle another giggle.

Cullen stopped walking, tugging her back with his hand so that she stopped as well. His eyes were wide as he stared at her. “Evelyn, are you – are we -”

She nodded, a wide radiant smile breaking across her face.

He gave a shout of surprised glee and immediately lifted her in his arms, spinning her around as they both laughed. He pressed kisses on every bit of skin that he could reach, feeling like his heart was going to burst.

He’d never thought he’d be as happy as he was, especially not considering how they’d met, everything they’d been through to reach this point.

But now there he was, holding his pregnant wife in his arms, kissing her deeply as he listened to the sound of laughter that followed his son and daughter as they chased each other through the garden.

He had everything he’d ever wanted, with her by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And another happily ever after for these two.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this fic! Trust me when I say, I know there's more works coming for this series. I love these two.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and thank you for kudos and comments. Your kind words and feedback mean so much to me, they always light up my days. <3 <3 <3
> 
> xx,  
> L


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